With My Blood
by ladyofdark.1981
Summary: The adventure truly begins.
1. Chapter 1: White Knight

(Insert standard disclaimer here)

Please be gentle, it's my first time. I hope everyone enjoys it.

* * *

Chapter 1: White Knight.

Another year passed, another year away from her, another year of emptiness. Basch sat at his desk, staring at the calendar, three years since they defeated Vayne and nearly two since Mydia's demise. Achadia and Dalmasca moved in different circles now, which meant his reasons to visit his former home had to be personal.

Larsa had his hands full, working with the senate to organize the referendum for Balfonheim to become an independent province. A promise he made to Rikken as payment for something that Basch was not privy to; it was best not to pry into the Emperor's business at times, as it was almost certainly underhanded in some way, but if it were detrimental to Archadia in anyway, Judge Gabranth would learn of it immediately.

The mountains of paperwork never went down; was Archadia that bad a place that some people had to try blow up a piece of it? Or kill a very popular Emperor? Basch liked the cases that dealt with less deadly outcomes, counterfeit currency or some insider trading in a company. He liked dealing with people's greed, it made them careless and ultimately stupid; Basch loved a good laugh at their expense.

With a heavy sigh, he moved onto the next case, another assassination plot on Larsa, uncovered in Dalmasca by some operatives he personally chose. "Oh a bomb," he uttered sarcastically, "Where's the originality? Where is the imagination? Amateurs!"

The two agents standing, waiting for their assignments, chuckled at the commentary; Gabranth always had a dark humour about his work.

"Raid, Tora," He addressed them, handing the assignment to Raid, "Bring the suspects back to me personally for interrogation; under no circumstances are they to be harmed. Your flight leaves in an hour, I suggest you hurry."

The men salute him and leave quickly the next two stepped up, another assassination plot.

"You two will rendezvous with Al-cid in Bhujerba, a terrorist group based in Rozzaria are plotting to _Blow up _the Emperor," He explained, yawing from fatigue, "You will be working with Rozzarian intelligence on this one; I expect you to give them your full cooperation."

"Yes Sir!" They saluted and left.

The last agents stood to approach the desk, the last mission for the week. Basch read the details, a local terrorist group plotting to blow the senate. "Maybe we should let them?" Giggled a handsome teen; he leaned over the desk, trying to spy more details.

"My Lord!" Basch stood to attention, "I did not notice you enter!" The two remaining agents found this hysterical, their shoulders jumping from the hilarity of the situation and failing miserably to stifle the laughing.

"I can see that, Gabranth," The boy smirked, standing to imitate the two Judges by his side, "I have some wonderful news!"

"Yes My Lord," Basch acknowledged, "My I please finish this briefing before we discuss more social events?"

"Of cause," The Emperor smiled, clearly excited about the news he had.

"Val, Titan; there is another bomb plot on the senate; a local group," He looked at Larsa, who was still smirking, "I would advise you do your best on this one; regardless what his lordship says."

The two men repeated what the others had done, salute and leave.

Larsa watched the agents leave, "I hope that mission fails," he jokingly said.

"Did you not see when the attack was to happen?" Basch asked as he stood up to move towards the window behind his desk, "It was for your address on the war widows' pension."

"What? I didn't see that!" The boy panicked.

Basch grinned, "I decided not to put extra pressure on them," He leaned against the window frame, looking out over the city; it was a beautiful spring day.

"Anyway, Gabranth," he tried to steady himself, "I have an invitation to a state dinner with other officials of Ivalice ... in Dalmasca." Larsa watched for any sign of emotion from his protector.

"Dalmasca?" He asked in a half fascinated way, "Then the invitation if from Queen Ashelia?"

"Yes and no, her council officially wrote it, but I would expect that you will accompany me?"

"It is my duty, My Lord," Basch turned and bowed.

"Oh good," He smiled again, "I have asked Zargabaath to fill in for you, we leave tonight!" With that, Larsa left to 'pack' for the trip.

Basch allowed a brief smile, too long has it been since he walked the halls of the Palace of Rabanastre. He sighed and left for his quarters.

* * *

His room was always dark, he never bothered to open the curtains as he was always up before dawn and home after dark, but today was an exception. He opened the curtain to the public gardens far below, a place where young lovers would meet and steal kisses from one another. He smiled fondly down to a young man holding a bouquet of red blooms, checking his watch anxiously. He turned back to his room, its bare walls, the solitary writing desk and the bed that he never has time to make in the mornings.

He kneeled down; reaching for his duffle bag under his bed, inside he had some pre-packed essentials, such as underwear, toiletries and some nightwear. He opened his wardrobe for some more casual clothing to pack and boots. He caught a shiny object out of the corner of his eye; a bottle of cologne the Emperor had given him for his 39th birthday; one of those gimmicky pheromone fragrances to attract the opposite sex; subtlety is one trait Larsa is not to proficient at. Basch packed it anyway; _it could not hurt_.

Basch laughed to himself, walking to the wardrobe for his dress uniform. The black uniform with gold braiding was new to the Magistry, Larsa insisted on a new design as the previous black with red braiding lost favour after Vayne's reign. He carefully placed it in its travel bag and packed his dress boots in their carry case. He was packed with several hours to wait until they leave.

He changed his sheets and set them aside for the cleaners to handle, that only took up half an hour, but his thoughts shifted to his family, a blend of his brother's children and his daughter with his late wife. He had them housed in his family home backing in the former Republic of Landis. He was fortunate that his brother and his wife had planned to retire there, as it had been saved from demolition and restored to its former glory, although, he wished that Noah's wife had not fallen into depression upon learning of her husband's death and taken her own life. However, his _Aunty Ingra, _at the wise age of sixty, cared for them full time.

His thoughts drifted to Ashelia, _how would she react if she knew of my family?_ He wondered. Noah's children knew that Basch was not their father, but they called him that anyway, they also called his daughter Kestra their sister. He missed them dearly, so he decided to write to them, let them know of his mission to Dalmasca and meeting the Queen again. They loved the stories he told of his adventures with Queen Ashelia, Ulrike, the older of Noah's twin daughters would ask if he would marry the Queen.

"I wish I could," he thought aloud, her image flooding his mind, her smile, and their stolen intimate moments together. He knew it would happen again, Queen Ashelia never hid the fact she was in love with him, nor would Basch deny her desires, for he felt them too.

He picked up his pen, retrieved a clean piece of parchment, and began to write to his family.

_Dearest Family,_

_I regret to inform you that I will be unable to see you this week end, however the tales I will have for you will more than make up to our time apart, for I have been invited to visit Queen Ashelia of Dalmasca for an official meeting of nations at her Majesty's pleasure._

_The reason for the meeting, I do not know, but I will be sure to ask her once again to visit you, I know how much you wish to meet her and I am sure she will be delighted to do so. Nevertheless, her schedule may be full with official business with many countries around Ivalice so I hope you will not be disappointed if she cannot make it yet._

_Be good to your Aunty Ingra and help her with the many chores the estate has, I know that it is soon to be breeding season for the Chocobos so make sure the hatchery is ready for the eggs, Ulrike, Valdar, I'm looking to you to take charge of that. Do not forget the fresh hay for the nests and keep the fires going._

_B.J. I don't want to hear that you have been stealing again, I will come home and personally punish you if I hear anything of the kind, I know we're wealthy, but we won't be if you keep your light fingered ways, your health is also important so eat your vegetables!_

_Kestra, please don't give up your lute lessons, your mother had a talent for the instrument and you do too. It breaks my heart that you would stop learning it just because the other kids at school do not like it. Know that you play better than the gods themselves do. I hope that one day you will play for her Majesty Queen Ashelia, who, by the way, does not have the skill you have._

_Aunty Ingra, I will try to make it the following weekend, I will try to find a nice broach for you in Rabanastre or something along those lines. I promise to behave myself Aunty; I know it is hard for you to think of me as a mature adult, but I assure you, I am._

_I love you all and will try to see you as soon as possible,_

_Daddy._

He leaned back in his chair; the light had begun to fade outside the window. He folded the letter and placed it lovingly into an envelope.

Basch rose from his desk, stretching his back. He walked over to the window again; the gardens were now lit with warm amber lights. He spied the young man from earlier; he was in the arms of a woman who looked many years older than he did. They were kissing passionately until, presumably, the woman's husband arrived and the two men began to quarrel.

A knocking at the door alerted him that he would be leaving soon. "Gabranth?" Came Larsa's voice, muffled by the thick hardwood barrier. Basch opened the door; the boy was almost a man now, looked eye to eye with the Judge. "I do hope you are ready, Judge Magister," he jovially smiled, "I long for one of those Dalmascan massages."

"One wonders if it is the massage you long for or the masseuse," Basch knew of Larsa's crush on Penelo, He had seen the infatuation's birth outside the Lhusu Mines in Bhujerba; it had almost cost them their mission. That unmistakable glint in the youngster's eyes at the moment he first laid eyes on her; it was quite sweet really and just like so many of the theatre productions Basch had seen over the years. He did not know if Penelo shared the romantic feelings with the young Emperor, with her five years older than him, the chances were slim at best.

Although, Penelo had, for a moment at least, caught the attention of Basch Fon Ronsenburg, but quickly dismissed it. She was immature in many ways, her playful nature, which was frequently displayed with her childhood friend Vaan, told him that she was but a child thrown into the upheaval of Vayne's plans for world domination. However, her skills for magicks are second to none, she saved his life on more than one occasion and he would bet all seventy sandalwood chops he had that she could beat all the Imperial mages.

"Please," He scoffed, "The Emperor of Archadia in love with a commoner? Even if it is Penelo ..." Larsa's voice betrayed him. Basch could not help but smile.

"She is pretty, My Lord," Basch said off handed, picking up the letter for his family, "I just need to post this before we leave."

"She is _Beautiful_, Gabranth!" the teen exclaimed, turning to face Basch.

"As you say, My Lord," He smirked, pressing the button by his desk to summon one of the Palace workers to his quarters. "Larsa, there is nothing wrong with falling in love with someone beneath your station; we are, at the end of the day, Humes. Without the dress and ceremonial partitions of our world, we are children of Ivalice, all with one heart to give."

"In the real world, Gabranth," Larsa added, "The people would not accept such a blatant disregard for tradition. Diplomacy between nations would crumble if someone, such as I, were to marry a commoner."

"A couple of Ancestors of mine were bound by the same problem, nay, they married not, but that did not stop them from confessing their love for one another, without love, I would not be here."

* * *

"_How long until we get there?" Vaan asked as they boarded the Strahl._

"_Not until tomorrow afternoon," Balthier responded, "The Bahamut is almost upon Rabanastre."_

"_That and the united resistance and Rozzarian fleet are also close to the Bahamut," Basch added, "We must get there before that fleet does or the resulting battle could destroy Rabanastre."_

_The motley crew of freedom fighters settled in to the seats of the cockpit. "At least it's almost over," Penelo sighed, relaxing into her chair. "Not that it hasn't been fun," she added, closing her eyes._

"_May be we should run away after we defeat Vayne," Ashe said, with a hint of sarcasm, "living like the hunters on the phone coast."_

"_Nay, My Lady," Basch objected, not catching the subtle cynical overtone of her Majesty's voice. "You are needed by the people of Dalmasca."_

_Basch knew she was joking the instant her face split into a smile, "Oh Basch," she playfully chided, her grin persisting, "What am I to do with you?" _

_The Knight lost his normal stoic nature, joining her mirth with a smirk and silent chuckle._

"_Everyone ready?" Fran asked, looking directly at Basch, whom nodded his reply. _

_As Basch looked back to Ashe, she stared out the window at the setting sun in the west, "I'm sorry that we had to fight your brother," she said without warning._

"_He wanted to kill you, Ashe," He explained, "And don't forget the other things he's done."_

"_I know, but he seamed, I don't know, distressed? Angry? He was defiantly distracted," She said, leaning in, "I wander if he survived."_

"_Would it matter if he did?"_

_Ashe look up to him, the confusion in her eyes said it all, she did not want Gabranth dead. Yes, she was hurt from her father's assassination and framing his own brother to take the fall, but she was not malicious at heart. It was Vayne's plan to do those horrible things and if Gabranth were anything like his brother, he would have only followed those orders out of loyalty to Archadia and a lot of persuasion from his superiors._

"_I don't wish him dead, Basch, but he is troubled by something. Judge Gabranth is feared and respected all over Ivalice, he's famous for his fair judgement for criminals and noble stature, but when we battled, I saw little of that."_

"_You are not just saying that to make me feel better are you?"_

_Ashe laid her hand on his, "Basch, you might have just lost your last living relative, and contrary to what others might think of me for saying this, I believe he must be or was a good man," Ashe lowered her voice to a whisper. "My father was an old man, he was dying from a disease and would have died anyway, in a way, your brother saved him the agony of a slow death and for that, I should be grateful."_

"_I had no idea his Majesty was ill!" Basch exclaimed, shocked by the revelation._

"_He had been ill for most of my life," Ashe explained, "Malger told me it was a broken heart from when my mother died, but the court physician told me it was a blood poisoning of some kind. I was married at seventeen because I wanted him to see me happy and cared for, because he would not see the New Year."_

_He could see Ashe was holding back, something in her mind begged to be released. "Ashe," Basch called, "what is it?"_

"_Perhaps we should finish this discussion in my quarters; I don't think it would be prudent for the others to witness their Princess loosing control of her senses."_

"_As you wish," he bowed before helping her from her seat, "My Lady."_

_Ashe walked swiftly down the short corridor to her designated room, Basch followed like an obedient dog, not saying a word until they were safely in her quarters._

"_Basch?" Ashe called, turning slowly to face him, "Are you scared?"_

"_Of the Battle with Vayne?"_

"_No, I mean of failing," she held his eyes, "Of missing out on a happy ending, of dying without knowing if your heart's desire ever felt the same way."_

"_I don't understand," he frowned in confusion as though it would make Ashe's statement clear._

"_Basch," she stepped closer to him, clasping his hands, "Ever since I was a little girl, I felt something for you," her cheeks flushed a deep crimson and shied away briefly, "you were always there, every night in the training yard, sparring with other Knights of the Order. I did not know who you were at first, only the blond Knight from somewhere else. I heard my father talk of a Lieutenant Basch with so much pride that one could easily have been mistaken for believing you his son, but I had no idea it was you he spoke of." She placed her hand on his heart, "you were assigned to my personal Guard on my insistence, Father and I had many heated discussions when finally he conceded defeat and granted my request. Meeting you up close solidified my feelings for 'the blond Knight' and I found myself captivated by a pair of steel grey eyes and a mane of solar rays. I knew it then and I know it now…I love you, Basch."_

_His heart raced, she loved him …__**him! **__Since the day of her sixteenth birthday, when he started his new assignment as one of her protectors, she was so mature for her age, more beautiful than new snow on a winter's morn in Landis and those eyes that seem to sparkle every time he looked at her. _

_He tilted her head up, his eyes studying her expression. With the faintest of smiles, he kissed her, softly, gently as though she were made of glass, but gentle tender kissed gave way to a more passionate and lustful embrace. And as he laid her on the bed, their clothing discarded, he uttered his love for her as he worshiped her body with all his being._

_As dawn broke on the horizon, Basch held her in his arms, scared that if he let her go, she would vanish, revealing this all to be a dream._

"_Basch? Are you awake?" Ashe's fatigued voice asked._

"_Aye," he whispered in her ear._

"_I had a wonderful dream," she announced, holding him tight, "My handsome, brave, champion made love to me in a way I never thought possible."_

"_Handsome?" Basch grinned, "Me? Impossible! I would suggest her Majesty get her eyes checked."_

"_Who said I was dreaming about you?" she coyly asked, struggling to stifle a giggle._

"_What?" Basch was confused._

"_Oh, I see," Ashe continued, sitting up so she may observe his physic, "You were fishing for compliments, huh? Wanting me to go on about your taught muscles, skills with every weapon, or perhaps even despite that painful looking scar, you still have the most handsome face imaginable. Well it's not going to work Sir Knight!" she continued to grin; Basch finally realised the princess's little game._

"_Well then," he said as he pushed her back down on the bed, towering over her, "I suppose, her Highness does not want …" he kissed her neck, causing goose bumps to erupt over her body, "to know what …" he kissed her jaw, "I had planned for her …" he kissed her lips, slowly, "this evening."_

"_If we make it," Ashe added, seriously._

* * *

There was another knock at the door, "Judge Magister?" a man called from behind the door.

"Enter," Basch replied, breaking out of his momentary recall of the day they defeated Vayne. The man entered, dressed like all the other members of staff in the Imperial Palace, a modest, yet elegant uniform of midnight blue with the Solidor crest embroidered on his back. He gave a curt bow before the Emperor and the Judge. "I have a letter to deliver: top priority, do you understand?" Basch handed him the envelope.

"Yes Sir," the man said, standing to full attention; clutching the letter to his chest and left immediately.

"Romantic notion but it won't change anything," the young Emperor sighed, "I have no idea if she feels the same way."

Basch smiled at the young man, who blushed a subtle pink at the thought of his crush. "And if she does?"

"Then this tragic love story would be complete," he sighed forlorn, but straightened himself, forcing a smile to his lips, "Are you ready, Judge Magister Gabranth?"

"I am ready My Lord," He announced, placing his helm on his head and lifting his bag to his shoulder.

"Oh Gabranth!" Larsa scolded, "Give the staff means to earn a living!" A young woman entered, wearing the feminine version of the staff uniform and comfortable shoes, taking the heavy bag from the Judge, almost dropping it in the process.

"I can carry that," The Chivalrous Judge offered, "I wouldn't want you to injure yourself."

"That is most kind of you Sir," she uttered as she positioned the duffle bag on her shoulder and lifting the dress uniform and flinging it over her other shoulder, "But as you can see, I can manage quite well." She shuffled out of the room, towards the awaiting hover car out the front of the Palace.

* * *

"Your Majesty," one of the elderly council members continued, "Are you sure? I mean, I know that the more suitable gentlemen are all married off, but why _Him_?"

"Larsa is too young," Ashe explained to them, sitting on her ornate throne at the head of the court, "the Bhujerban men are my cousins, ergo, also not suitable." She sighed, leaning back against her throne, "You have until they arrive to give me a reason why Judge Magister Gabranth should not be my suitor, and it must be a real good one. I do, however, reserve the right to continue with this alliance without the Councils' approval, do I make my self clear?"

All twenty councillors obligingly nodded, they had no real power over their monarch, and they were for show, more advisors rather than lawmakers. The council lost its power when the late King Raminas wanted to marry beneath his station, the only daughter to the Marquis of Bhujerba, a bunch of commoners who had achieved wealth and status through business. Amalia Ondor was quite the beauty, there was no doubting that and at nineteen years junior to the king, there were many reasons why the union should not have happened. But Raminas loved her, and when he said, he would move heaven and earth for them to be together, he did it, holding a referendum to the people of Dalmasca to give him the power to veto any decision the council would make. They voted with the king and he rewarded them with a lavish wedding that lasted an entire month; partying in every street, rivers of Bhujerban Madhu flowed for the people. Rabanastre did not sleep that month, but like every party, there is a hangover. With the treasury depleted and the population ill from drink, Dalmasca was on the verge of bankruptcy. Moreover, the debt still lingered to this day.

"It is rumoured," an elderly woman spoke up, "That the Judge Magister is the brother to the Kingslayer, What do you say to that?" her steely grey eyes glaring at the Queen as though to challenge her.

"Then I would advise you stop listening to hearsay and focus on the facts Councillor," Ashe responded articulately, "gossip only distorts the facts as I'm sure you are aware. If it were not for gossip, I would not have 'died by my own hand'."

The old woman grunted with displeasure, "Gossip, as you call it, has a way of causing trouble, whether it is true or not. Keep that in mind when you announce your betrothal to the people."

"You jump the gun, Councillor, for it has not been agreed on yet, your fears may be nothing," Ashe said almost sarcastically, for she knew in her heart, everything would be perfect.


	2. Chapter 2: Old Fashioned Lover Boy

Chapter 2: Old Fashioned Lover Boy.

The Imperial Yacht Ultima: Grand and Opulent and lived up to its title in every way. The large and swift craft newly commissioned as a gift to the new Emperor from the populous. It was fast, manoeuvrable and silent, as the insistence of the Emperor, who could not sleep with the hum of regular aircraft engines.

Basch had to admire the eloquent ship; it had the charm and comfort of the old wind powered barges with the speed of a one-man fighter. However, even with its incredible speed, it would still take more than a day to arrive in Dalmasca, if the ship was more streamline, than perhaps it could do it in less time, but the entire world drops everything for the Emperors of Ivalice. Why hurry?

Basch settled into his room, it was larger than his quarters back at the Palace, a large king size bed, a spacious En Suite with a deep two person spa bath and a shower that would automatically turn on when you stepped under it at the perfect temperature. He wondered if the initial design of the Yacht was for a pleasure craft for the gentries of Archadia.

He settled into his nightly routine of polishing his armour, rubbing his leathers with bees wax conditioner and general personal grooming. He had been invited to play cards with Larsa and a few of the other officials in the lounge, but he declined, taking full advantage of the extra time to catch up on some much needed sleep.

_Basch kneeled by his brother's side, "Hold on Noah," he whispered, clutching his twin's hand firmly._

"_Basch?" Noah called, regaining consciousness, "Where are we? What happened?"_

"_We fly for Archades, brother," Basch explained, "You are heavily injured and we race the clock for treatment."_

"_I'm dying, aren't I" Noah coughed, spraying droplets of blood on Basch's face._

"_No," Basch lied, "Just a few bumps and scratches."_

_Noah smiled, "you liar," he chuckled, "we both know I'm beyond help … How long do you think I have?"_

"_A day at most," Basch informed him, tears forming in his eyes._

"_Look after Cassia and the children for me," Noah begged, pulling himself up to Basch; "promise me!"_

"_I'm sorry, I don't understand."_

"_My wife, Cassia, she's at our family home in Landis with my three children," Noah's eyes now moistened with imminent tears, "Basch, I named my son after you."_

"_You will see them again, before …"_

"_It's alright, take the ship home, they are there, you can also bury me in our family crypt."_

"_Efficient until the end?"_

"_You could say that."_

"_Vaan!" Basch called out, "Take us to the former Republic of Landis, the western edge of the territory."_

"_What about your brother?" Vaan called back, puzzled by the change of plans, "He'll die if we don't get him to Archades!"_

"_Just do it, Vaan!"_

"_Yep!"_

_The ship banked left sharply; Basch steadied himself on the bulkhead and Noah rolled against the wall._

"_Vaan!" Basch cried, "Do you have to be so rough?"_

"_Sorry, I'm still getting the hang of her," the youth explained._

"_Don't let it happen again!" the Knight warned, helping his brother onto his back again._

"_No harm done," Noah uttered, "He couldn't damage me more than Vayne's mist attacks." He sighed, placing his hand on his head, wincing at the pain._

"_We'll be there soon my Brother," Basch said, feeding him a hi-potion. _

_Noah swallowed it and relaxed, "I hope so," he said warily._

Basch awoke, his heart aching, "Noah," he called into the silence, "I miss you." He knew that his brother would have lived if they had given him treatment in time, but it was impossible; only the medical laboratory at Draklor could have coped with his injuries and only if they got him there within minutes of the attack, but the internal bleeding slowly suffocated him.

He sat up, the silken sheets falling from his broad frame; he decided to treat himself to a bath. He walked naked across the long expanse of his room to the En Suite. He began to fill the deep spa, the water steaming up the mirrors above the basin and toilet. Basch wiped the mist from the reflective glass as he relieved himself; how old he felt.

He had been told that, for his age, he looked remarkably young; he still had no grey to blemish his golden hair and only a few wrinkles around his eyes and forehead. For a moment, he saw not only his brother's eyes staring back at him, but his father's concern. He smiled weakly, "I never expected this," he said to his reflection, "I only wanted to live on the estate with my family, I never wanted to see war, but I guess everything happens for a reason, I only hope it's a good reason." With a couple of shakes and flush of the latrine, he slid into the scolding hot bath.

He groaned as his worries faded away, the intense heat loosening his tired and stiff body. For what felt like only a few minutes, a gentle knocking at the rooms main entrance disturbed his tranquillity.

"Your Honour?" a pleasant feminine voice called shyly, "I have the breakfast menu here for you."

"Slip it under the door!" he told her.

"Yes Sir," she complied, sliding the cream coloured card under the door, "I need your order in ten minutes or the chef will not cook for you."

"Understood," he replied, placing a face cloth over his eyes.

Ten minutes later, the girl returned, Basch had managed to drag himself from the thermal paradise and read the menu.

"So what will it be Sir?" she asked, looking away from him, finding the picture on the wall suddenly interesting.

He was still wet from the bath and clad in the small white towel around his waist. It amused him by the way her cheeks changed colour from a faint pink to a bashful scarlet. Although he would never admit it, he did like having this reaction from nearly every female he met, with the exception of one; with her regal stature and grace, Lady Ashe never blushed at his physique, only his actions succeeded at that. "The mushroom omelette and a strong coffee," he said finally.

She scribbled his order down and left swiftly, mumbling something about it being ready shortly.

Basch returned to the bathroom to shave, or more precisely, trim his beard. Ashe liked his beard, she would not say why, she liked his hair better when it was long, just like the way he had it when he was a member of the Order. If only he had known of this diplomatic trip earlier, he would have grown it for her.

The Archadian military were not so liberal as his old Order, the only one who got away with having long hair was Zargabaath, but that was only because he out ranked everyone else.

He donned his leathers by the time the girl returned with his breakfast, "Thank you," he said politely.

"Thank you for being dressed this time," she said as she left, her cheeks still a rosy hue.

He tucked into his breakfast, shaking his head.

Larsa busied himself at the card table with a few of his valets, robbing them blind of their tokens. He had successfully emptied the pockets of his fellow dignitaries the night before; they retreated to their rooms to lick their financial wounds as the young Emperor turned for fresh bank notes.

"Ah!" Larsa clapped his hands together, "I win again!" he collected his winnings from his peers who looked tired, "Care to join us Judge Magister?"

Basch had entered the lounge carrying a leather bound book, "My apologies My Lord, but my finances are already spoken for." He continued to the chair by the window, ordered another coffee and began to read.

Basch was content to sit by the window with his favourite classic novel; _With my Blood_: a retelling of an ancient story of a Queen Elfreda stolen by bandits and held to ransom, until her ever-loyal Knight, Hendrick, rescues her, beds her and evidently killed in one final act of loyalty to his Queen.

Basch was a hopeless romantic but you would not hear it from him as he Guarded his emotions as he Guarded Larsa: with his life.

He sipped at his beverage whilst reading, for hours he did this, stopping to order a drink occasionally and returning to his book.

_Blood dripped from his sword like the fangs of a ravenous hound after a kill and had sustained many injuries from his foes. Now all that stood between Him and his Queen was the solid wooden cell door. With one ferocious kick, the wood splintered from its hinges and fell to the floor._

_Before the loyal and brave Knight, with crystal like tears gracing her cheeks, his beloved, his whole world, his existence, Queen Elfreda of Valendia; bound and crying on the unforgiving cold stone floor. "You're Majesty!" He cried, falling to his knees at her side, "I will have you free in no time!" His bruised and swollen fingers fumbled with her bindings. He cursed the Bandits for tying the rope too tight around his sovereign's delicate, slender wrists, leaving them raw and bleeding. _

_Her wrists now free, she ripped the gag from her mouth and in rapture, she embraced Hendrick, passionately kissing him, her tongue sliding between his teeth. He pulled away in shock, "My Lady?" He questions her._

"_Hendrick" her breast heaved salaciously, "I have come close to death! I will no longer deny what I desire, as I only will have one life and I wish it to be with you!"_

_For a brief moment, he stared at his Queen, finally understanding that she meant him. She laid back, her fiery red hair splayed out on the stone. The Knight leaned over her, sweat from the battle to free her, still on his brow. With one delicate tug at his vest, he lowered to her body, the cold room having no effect on her, as she burned with desire for him. Latching her teeth to his lower lip, he shuddered, aroused with lust and love for his Queen. He wormed his arms around her slender waist, her arms around his neck. "This will be my head if I continue My Lady," He breathed into her ear._

"_I am Queen, I __**make**__ the law!"..._

"What are you reading?" Larsa asked, looking over Basch's shoulder, who promptly closed the book.

"My Lord," Basch asked nervously, hoping that he did not see what he read. "I thought you were playing cards until we arrive."

"No one wants to play," he sighed. "However we have arrived," The boy leaned to get a better look at the title, but was unsuccessful, "We land in ten minutes."

"That was quick!" Basch observed.

"Our friendly sky pirate helped with the design of this craft, he made a few suggestions that would aide in rapid travel to anywhere in Ivalice; in exchange for the same technology to be applied to the Strahl," The young man grinned smugly, "I have a message from the Queen for you."

Basch kept himself composed, "And what would that be?"

The Emperor leaned on the back of Basch's chair, whispering quietly to him; "Her Majesty, Queen Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca has cordially invited Judge Magister Gabranth for supper in the privacy of her bed chambers and requests that he wear his dress uniform and not his armour." The boy openly smirked at the request, "Is there something between you and Dalmasca's sovereign?"

Basch gulped, "Not to my knowledge Sire," He sounds unconvincing, yet he speaks the truth. It had been two years, and although he had never lost his feelings for her, he had not written personally to her, nor she to him. He would approach her as a comrade from the war and nothing more.

The Emperor sits in the nearby chair, awaiting touch down in the aerodrome, "Gabranth," he smiled mischievously, "I trust you will keep the Lady's virtue in high esteem."

"Always," A slight bow of his head finished the conversation. Basch packed his book away in the duffle bag at his feet.

The yacht landed silently and the passengers left at their own pace, Basch, not thinking to much, grabbed his things and left to see is former charge.

"Judge Magister!" an alarmed Palace Guard cried, startled by the imposing figure before him.

"Her Majesty, Queen Ashelia has requested my presence," he said dryly, sounding fatigued by the flight.

The Guard and his partner stood for a moment, looking at each other and back to Basch, "We have not been informed of this invitation Judge Magister," the first Guard said wearily, "I will go check with Queen Ashelia, if you don't mind waiting here." He scurried off into the private section of the Palace.

Basch stood to attention, the cold dead eyes of his helm resting on the remaining Guard, who visibly shrank back from him; he hated the reaction he always received from former comrades and citizens of Dalmasca; the stigma of Gabranth was much more painful to endure than that of Kingslayer. Hatred was one thing but fear from those who now rely on you for their protection made him sick to the core.

The poor Guard tried in vain to stare down the unblinking mask of Gabranth, a cold sweat, beading on his brow, the struggled gulp; if only he knew that, the man under the helm had closed his eyes.

"You may enter Sir Judge Sir," The first Guard called nervously as he ran back. With a quick bow, the two Guards stepped aside allowing the towering armour clad man to walk casually past.

_I must not run to her, _Basch thought to himself, but the urge was almost too hard to ignore. His feet trying both run and walk, the Judge Magister stumbled with a loud clank that echoed off the stone of the Palace walls. Basch hastily righted himself, then checked to see if anybody had seen or heard his accident ... all clear.

Still feeling the heat of embarrassment rise in his cheeks he walked slower, hoping to collect his thoughts before reaching the Queen's ... _Damnit!_

He stood at her door, breathing slowly, his hand poised to knock. The door opened to a pale, but no less beautiful Queen. "I thought that was you," she grinned, "I thought I asked you to wear something else this evening."

Basch smiled, even though nobody would see it. "My apologies Lady Ashe," he bowed, his voice muffled by the thick steal barrier between them, "I was in a hurry."

She smiled serenely at him, "I can imagine," she steps aside for him to enter, by the window, overlooking the gardens of the Palace, bathed in the golden hue of the setting sun; a table just for two.

He stops in his tracks; this was not what he had expected.

"Basch?" she called after closing the door, "Let me help you with that." She clasped his helm and lifted it off his head, "That's better," her eyes wide and bewitchingly beautiful; but her hands did not stop there; he began to remove the rest of his armour now.

"Lady Ashe?" he grabbed her hand to halt her actions, "I am here for dinner only, am I not?"

She giggled like a young girl, "I detest the grinding metal sound you make when you move in that thing, that's why I asked you to wear something else."

"So it is just the outer armour you want gone?" he asked cautiously.

"For now," she smirked as she continued to remove his gauntlets. Much to her disappointment, he wore leather gloves under his metal ones.

Basch closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the fact it was not he who wrestled the buckles to free him of his mobile prison. He swayed at the movement she caused and grinned at her hushed curses to the designers of the monstrous suit. His breathe catches when she begins on his cuisse, her hands fumbling between his thighs, but thankfully, it falls away quickly, as did the second one on his right leg.

Ashe stood back up, her eyes checking over her work. Basch shifted uncomfortably under her scrutiny.

"My Lady," He manages to utter, "Shall we eat?" He offered his hand to her, which she gladly took. They glided over to the table by the window, and like the gentleman he was, pulling the chair out for Ashe. "So," He began, sitting opposite his Queen, "Is there an ulterior motive for my invitation tonight?"

Ashe gave a cryptic smirk, leaning over to lift the lid on the tureen of soup, "I only wish to discuss current world events _Judge Magister._"

Her coy tone intriguing him, "I only concern myself with the more nefarious side of Ivalice," Basch asked more than answered, "Mainly the business that involves an explosive device of some variety destined for Lord Larsa."

"Well," she began, airily, "Then you might not be aware of our friend Al-Cid."

"Should I be?" he asked, taken aback.

"Honestly Basch! Do you not read the news? He's married; the last eligible bachelor to the House Margrace is married!"

"Does that mean something?" he knew he sounded ignorant, but gossip was not his thing. "Is it too late to offer my congratulations?"

"Basch, the last of those I could marry are all married off! I'm free to choose!" She gave him an unblinking stare, waiting for him to catch up.

He realizes, "But what about Larsa?"

"He's to organize the hand of Zoraida Margrace," Ashe was annoyed, but forgave him.

"The new Emperor of Rozzaria is permitted to marry more than one woman," he then states.

Ashe sighs, "Only if she does not hold a title herself ... And I can't marry any of the Ondor family as they are also my family, the Nebradian line is gone and I won't marry a Balfonheim pirate, no matter how much you beg me Basch."

"So ..." he swallowed hard, "You are free to marry _anyone_?"

Ashe chuckled, placing her hand on his, "You should take off those gloves if you want to eat," she did not wait for him to react; she lifted his hand and removed it herself. She kissed his fingertips before placing his hand back on the table. Basch was completely dumbfounded, watching as she began to spoon the thick hot liquid into his bowl, her face demure with the hint of a blush in her cheeks.

She finished serving the soup, "Basch?" She watched his stunned features, "Talk to me."

"Anyone?" seemed to be all he could say.

Ashe gave a lyrical laugh, "Eat your soup!"

Dinner was quiet, not what Ashe had planned at all, the exchange of questions through glances made it down right difficult. It was completely dark now, the moon having not risen yet, but the galaxy of stars in the cloudless sky beckoned attention.

The Queen sighed, standing to leave the table; Basch rapidly beat her to it, offering a bow. She smiled sadly and silently walked out onto the balcony.

Basch stood perfectly still, contemplating giving into his heart. He watched her lean against the rail, the dark fabric of her dress clinging to her figure. _Go to her! _His mind screamed. Without realizing it, his feet began to move, following his Queen out to the night air.

Finally, Ashe received the reply she was waiting for; two large hands rested on her hips, their weight remaining for only a moment before they slithered around her waist, his body pressing into her back as she straightened. The Queen sighed heavily as Basch nuzzled into her neck, "Basch," she cooed, leaning her head to allow him more access to her.

"Ashelia," he replied between kisses that ran along her neck and around her collar; his hand wandering into places she had dreamed of.

Ashe turned without noticing, her arms warped around her former Knight's neck, their lips meeting in euphoric bliss. "Basch, I love you," she breathed in his ear.

He lifted her into his arms like the heroes of old and carried her back into her room and to her awaiting bed. His eyes caught what appeared to be rose petals strewn across the sheets, the bottle of fragrant oil on her bedside table and a bottle of Madhu on ice with two glasses. He lowered her to the soft mattress, "If I didn't know any better," he spoke in an amused tone, "I'd say you were planning this all along!"

Ashe giggled mischievously, "If you didn't move I was going to _make _you make love to me," her sultry voice brought with it the tantalizing expectation of what was to come.

"Your Majesty," he hummed to her, "You are quite the vixen, if I'd known this, years ago, I would have stormed the temple at your wedding and whisked you away in my arms."

"No you wouldn't," she teased, "your honour and virtue would have stopped you ... that and the executioner's axe." She licked her lips seductively as her eyes looked to what she desired, "Take it off!" she commanded, referring to the rest of his clothing.

"Yes your Majesty," He answered nostalgically with a bow. Ashe lay back on her bed, watching Basch remove the leather armour, followed by the cotton padding.

"Good gods!" she cried, "Just how much are you wearing? Should I go for a quick shower while you finish?"

Basch huffed with amusement, the glint in her eyes as they flashed to his waistline and back again. _Pay back_. He stopped at his underwear, a regimental pair of Y-fronts, "If you want me to continue, you must do the same as I."

She scoffed, "Do you make other's unwrap your birthday presents?"

Basch grinned, "My Lady, I wouldn't know where to begin on the slinky, midnight blue, gown that adorns your curvaceous body, will you show me?"

Her features dropped into a deadly serious glare, "You think I'm fat?"

Basch tripped on his clothing at his feet, falling to the bed. He rolled over, looking up at his Queen, "I would never insult her Majesty!"

Ashe burst out laughing again, leaning over her Knight, "There is a clasp up here," she guided his hand behind her neck to a metal fixture. With a snap, the two halves of the fabric fell, revealing her perfect milky white breasts. "I swear they get more beautiful every time I see them," Basch sighed as he latched onto one; gently suck as he fumbled with the remainders of Ashe's clothing.

Ashe moaned with delight as her former Knight's hands began to trace up the inside of her thigh. Basch let go of her, looking up to her beautiful face. Her head thrown back and her back arched as he slowly moved closer to her inviting velvety cove. _You are going to love this! _The Queen gasped as his lips met her in the gentlest way, his tongue exploring her softly.

"Oh Basch!" she cried, as he found what she did not expect; her fingers running through his cropped hair became more passionate the more he pleasured her. Her moist heat against his face drove him on, lapping up all she gave, her hips writhing. "Basch!" she panted, "Take me! _PLEASE!_"

The Judge hastily tried to remove the last threads of clothing, catching momentarily on his excitement. He crawled slowly over Ashe, lingering, hovering, over his desire, his love, "I'll be gentle," he whispers in her ear.

Ashe giggled, "It's not like it's our first time together, Basch." She smiled up at him, her warm features melting any hesitation in him.

"I just want to take it slow," he confessed, "You are the last person I've been with ..."

Ashe cut him off, her legs sliding up his sides and slithering around his waist; "Basch," she spoke with a low husky voice, "We have all night to make up for lost time," she chuckled again, "Give your sword arm a rest."

Basch blushed, as though she had read his mind, but all forgotten as she pulled him down. With a lovingly tender kiss, he found his way in, Ashe sighing aloud at his size.

"I'll never grow tired of you," her voice loosing control, as he began to move, reducing communication to gasps, moans and cries of orgasmic indulgence. Her elegantly manicured nails dug into his back, her teeth nipping at his neck as Basch brought her to the very edge of ecstasy.

Her cries startled him, but he was not done yet. Scooping Ashe into his arms, he lifted her up and against his chest.

"Basch," she huffed, "I need a break."

"Oh, not yet my Queen," he playfully chided, "You deserve the very best in love making I can offer." With him kneeling; Ashe wrapped in his arms, he used this extra leverage to send her to new heights of rapture. Pained cries of frenzied lust erupted from Ashe, spurring his efforts, his hips thrusting into hers; growling like an animal into her neck.

Ashe screamed, her body rebelling against any control she had, but he pays no attention to it, as his own control finally exhausted, the familiar satisfying throb, releasing all stress and tension. Basch fell back, dragging Ashe down with him.

They lay together for a moment, Ashe glistening with sweat as she looked into his eyes, "Well?" she panted.

"Well what?" He replied in kind.

"It is tradition for the gentleman to make the proposal," She rolled off to his side, allowing him to straighten his legs, "and seeming that it is your country's suggestion for a union between us as a way of solidifying a treaty of peace for both Dalmasca and Archadia."

"This was Larsa's idea?"

"No, making love was my idea, but a marriage is Larsa's," Ashe sighed, "I was hoping for a way for us to ..."

"Ashe," Basch cupped her cheek, pulling her in for a loving kiss, "Larsa is a friend of both of us, he is like my little brother, or a son; I protect him."

"You're refusing me?"

"I refuse your reason, not your love."

Ashe sat up, "Basch," she trembled, her eyes welling with tears, "I cannot find another way to be with you!"

"Princess, please!" He embraced her, kissing her hair, "I wish to make my proposal at the right place," he smiled down at her.

"I don't understand," she gazed back with confusion.

"I believe you have been dreaming of the perfect wedding with me, am I right?"

"Yes, but ..."

"I have been dreaming of the perfect way to propose to you," hugged her tightly, "I have fantasized about it since that time just before Bahamut."

"Basch?"

"I would probably have done it then, confessing my desire to marry you just before battle like a tragic romantic hero, I would definitely have if you were not fighting also."

"You need imminent blood shed to ask for my hand?" she asked, confused, her eyes sparkled as she looked him in the eye.

"No," He closed his eyes, "There is a tree, on top of a hill on the Ronsenburg Estate in the former Republic of Landis."

"Your homeland?"

"When I was young, my father told me stories of my ancestors, going all the way back to Queen Elfreda herself."

"Queen Elfreda?" The Queen's heart nearly seized in her chest, "You're of royal descent?"

"Not exactly, just my luck I'm descendant of her indiscretion with her Knight ..."

"Hendrick? No way are you kidding me?"

"So you know the legend then?"

Ashe laughed, leaning over her lover to retrieve a book, _With My Blood_, "It's my favourite," she held the leather bound book for him to inspect, "I always dreamt that we were Hendrick and Elfreda, forbidden love, adventure, tragedy; it sound so much like us does it not?"

"It does," his eyes now beginning to tear up. "Their child, Landis, who went on to become the founder of my homeland; he declared that no monarchy would control the people. They could choose their leaders."

"Sounds wonderful, I wish we could do that," Ashe commented, seriously.

Basch's smile knew that deep down, she did not mean that. "Landis had a son, Ron, who became a singer; his voice was described as pure joy. He became quite rich and bought a piece of land on the western edge of the country; picturesque hills where his voice could be carried by the wind to all of Valendia."

"So the estate is named after him?"

"No his son, Ronsen, who built the first manor house and planted the tree I spoke of."

"That would make it over a thousand years old!"

"He planted the tree as a present for his bride to be, Eleonora. They adopted the name Ronsenburg as their surname to cut off any ties with royalty and all children they had were Fon Ronsenburg, _sons from the singing hills_."

Ashe was dumbfounded, "You've never talked of Landis before, why now?"

"If you are to be my wife, is it not best you know of my family as well as your own?" a tear escaped and slid down his cheek, "But I must ask you under that tree, as all my ancestors have done."

"But has not the Republic of Landis been absorbed by Archadia?"

"Gramis recognized my family estate as being the property of Judge Gabranth," Basch explained, "Noah was married there and his children are now raised under my care."

"What of his wife?"

"She killed herself upon Noah's death, leaving my nieces and nephew to be raised by me along with my daughter Kestra."

Ashe nodded, absorbing what had been said, "So you're a father?"

"Yes."

"And the mother of Kestra?" Ashe asked cautiously.

"She passed away during Kestra's birth, before I came to Guard you," He swallowed hard. "Her mother was a Lieutenant of the Nebradian Guard, Illandra Rottnest."

"I believe I know Kestra, the little girl who lived in Lowtown with the other orphans?" Ashe queried.

"Yes, but she lives with my Aunty Ingra at the estate," he explained.

"Wow, your secrets are worth the wait," Ashe mused, "But all closets have skeletons, Basch, and you will have to wait for mine."

Ashe wiped his tears from his face, "I will make it better;" she dipped her head to his lap and slipped his flaccid member into her mouth.

"Ashe?" he gasped.

Stopping what she was doing, "Basch just take it for once," She forcibly pushed him back and continued.

"Yes My Lady."


	3. Chapter 3: Tales of a Broken Heart

If anything appears out of place in this chapter, just remember that every girl loves a bit of romance and will probably tweak a story to make it sound perfect.

* * *

Chapter 3: Tales of a Broken Heart.

The Sandsea was bustling as usual, the haze of tobacco smoke hovered above the tables of laughter and chatter. Balthier sat with Fran, waiting for his young apprentice to return with the drinks. The long running joke Balthier would never admit to liking. They observed a young couple enter the tavern, a blond woman and a tall black haired man. "Their up there!" The blond squealed.

"It's Penelo," Fran drawled warmly, leaning back on her chair and watched the two of them race up the stairs.

"Hay guys," Penelo huffed as she approached them, with Larsa in tow, "You'll never guess!"

"Penelo!" Larsa reproached her playfully, instantly silencing the excited blond, "Just wait a minute."

Balthier grinned, "Well if Larsa is here, then our good friend the Judge Magister is not far behind," he prodded Fran's side in jest.

"Judge Gabranth dines with the Queen this evening, as on her request," Larsa beamed at the pirates.

Fran grinned faintly, "It is probably for the best that he is not; he is rather conspicuous in that armour."

"Hay Larsa," Vaan greeted the Emperor with a friendly punch to the shoulder, "What brings you here?"

"I'm here on official business," Larsa began, rubbing his shoulder, "the new treaty between Archadia and Dalmasca won't sign its self you know." He helped himself to Vaan's ale, "I also hope to be announcing a special event soon." Vaan returned to the bar for another drink.

"Oh?" Balthier leaned closer to the teen, propping his elbows on the table, "and what would that be?"

"It is the wish of Archadia to solidify the treaty by a marriage," Larsa purposely paused, drinking the rest of the ale, "between Lady Ashelia and Judge Magister Gabranth."

The pirate sprayed the boy Emperor in the face with his drink, "What? He's not of any important status other than your baby sitter, why him?"

Larsa frowned, mopping the alcoholic beverage from his face, "The Judge Magister has many important duties at court, being my protector is just one of them. Anyway, Al-Cid has just wed the Countess El Bottane of Argus, a northern province of Rozzaria, leaving Ashe with only lesser Gentlemen to choose from as a husband and I'm glad to say that Gabranth is available for service in the name of peace and the Empire."

"You do not think that a Bunansa appropriate?" Balthier asked before he could stop himself.

"Not one with a price on his head," Fran chuckled, eliciting a glare from the pirate to his partner. "If she were to marry you, she could always turn you in to raise money for the treasury."

Larsa settled back in his chair again, dryer than before but still smelling of ale; "I have others just like the Judge Magister; but I believe he will make her happy and guarantee peace throughout Ivalice. A most suitable match."

The young thief returned to the table; "What does that mean?" Vaan was clearly not paying attention.

"Vaan! They love each other," Penelo glared at Vaan, "You are powers of observation are left wanting, how you keep avoiding Nalbina with a head like that is beyond me!"

"Luck?" Vaan asked.

"It would have to be," Larsa laughed, "Getting back to the task at hand, Balthier; I couldn't choose you as Ffamran has not existed for seven years, ergo is legally dead."

"I'm dead am I?" the pirate asked dryly.

"I think it's romantic," Penelo sighed, "The Queen and her Knight lover, just like a fairy tale."

"What about the Pirate? I'm the leading man, not Basch," Balthier sulked, storming off to the bar.

"Basch keeps a diary you know," Larsa gossiped, "He writes it like an unending ode to Ashe, so many days since seeing you my Queen, he starts every entry."

"You read his diary?" Penelo asked, shocked at the revelation.

"How do you think I chose him for the job?" Larsa winked at Penelo. "He doesn't exactly open up to anyone, he is one man who does like his position at the ninth, so many secrets to keep, so many to find, and he loves it."

"So what else have you found out?" Penelo revelled in the gossip, "Anything juicy?"

"Only the stuff he made me promise not to say."

"He caught you?"

"Not exactly," Larsa chuckled, "I mentioned something I shouldn't have known."

Penelo laughed, "You are evil Larsa Solidor!"

Fran turned her attention to Penelo, "So how is the Palace work? I hear you're a masseuse now?"

"Therapeutic healer, I help with the care and relaxation of the ill and injured and as it is _usually _just Ashe," She shot a glance at Larsa, who just smiled in return, "I don't do much but keep her company throughout the day."

"Perhaps you should give Balthier a neck rub, that should cheer him up a bit," Larsa suggested.

Balthier returned with a large mug of ale, "If anyone needs me, I'll be drowning my sorrows over there." He slumped in the corner and began to drink.

"I didn't think it would affect him so much," Penelo said, worried for her friend, "I didn't think that Ashe was anymore than an aspired conquest."

"If that was the case he would have stopped paying attention to our regal friend as soon as he achieved his _conquest_," Fran commented dryly.

Penelo's face dropped, "What? Balthier and Ashe?"

"Several times since Jahara," She sighed, "His heart broke when she him in his cabin the night before Bahamut."

"That was when Basch confessed his love to her; she told me that he wanted her to know his heart just in case he didn't survive the fight with Vayne!" Penelo pleased to be adding to the conversation.

"Can't blame Ashe though, who wouldn't want a Knight in shining armour?" Fran grinned.

"I know what you mean, I couldn't keep my eyes off him either," Penelo commented, "Guess he's out of reach now."

"Hay!" Vaan cried, causing Larsa to laugh, "Jealous boy friend at two o'clock!"

"Vaan, you are at five o'clock, you just said that I'm Larsa's girl friend," The giggling blond corrected him.

Vaan gave Larsa a cautious glance, "I'll see if Balthier's alright."

"Like he could talk," Penelo continued, "He couldn't keep his eyes of your behind the whole trip!"

Fran laughed at this, "He's just a mere male, driven by hormones and lust."

"Surely you don't see me that way Fran?" Larsa asked; giving the most charming smile he could muster.

"I do, unless you have been lying to us? You're not a woman are you?"

"I'll just go see how Balthier is going," He suggested, rising from his chair.

"Penelo," Fran spoke in mock sincerity, "I feel Balthier's pain, deeper than I expected."

"What do you mean?"

"Balthier felt strongly for Ashe ..."

"As you do for Basch?"

"For the both of them," Fran lied, not resisting a perfect opportunity to mess with Penelo's perception of her.

Penelo's eyes widened, "Both of them!"

"Viera are different to humes," she explained, trying to sound convincing; "I come from a village with a population of women and where the males only visit once a decade."

"Okay," the girl uncomfortably shifted on her seat, "Have you looked at me that way?"

Fran smiled again, "maybe we shouldn't explore that right now."

"Should I be worried or what?" Penelo nervously asked.

"Let me buy you a drink, you need it."

* * *

Balthier stared down at his ale, the amber liquid still obscured by the foam that still capped it.

"Are you going to drink that?" Vaan asked, sitting by his side.

"I knew," the pirate mumbled, "deep down that she didn't actually love me, but I didn't expect this to hurt so bloody much!" he thumped the table, "Vaan, your Queen is a Lorelei, seducing men to her arms and tearing out their hearts for mere pleasure."

"Maybe she just needed someone to comfort her, she had been in morning for two years," Larsa added as he joined them.

"You maybe right," Balthier downed his mug, "at the time I never thought of her more than a shag, but as each night we were together passed, I found I couldn't sleep without her. I gave her everything!" he went off to the bar for another drink.

"Damn!" Vaan exclaimed, "I didn't realise."

"What, that Balthier and Ashe were somewhat involved?" Larsa asked.

"No," Vaan replied, "That Balthier could feel anything like that towards anyone."

"Love is a strange thing," the boy Emperor sighed, "like a lightening strike, you only know about it after it has happened."

"Well, it'll never happen to me," Vaan announced proudly, leaning back on his chair, hands behind his head, "makes you weak."

Larsa's eyes almost popped out of his head, "But what about Penelo? You love her don't you?"

"As a friend yeah, but nothing else, she likes to act like we are but …" he stopped as Balthier returned with a bottle of Balfonheim scotch.

"Don't even think about asking for any," the forlorn pirate said flatly, removing the cork stopper, "This is expensive." He took a deep swig of the malted spirit, "_there was a young Princess of Dalmasca, Who'd do anything I'd ask her…_"

"Oh boy," Larsa grumbled over Balthier's dirty limerick, "this is going to be a long night."

"Yeah?" Vaan turned to the Emperor, "You're not the poor mug who'll have to carry him home."

* * *

The autumn night chilled B.J. to the bone as he shuffled through the dry leaves that carpeted the path. The hatchery was his most favourite place in the entire world; he had worked all day to prepare the nests for the Chocobos to lay their eggs.

The letter had arrived that afternoon; Aunty Ingra read it aloud over dinner, emphasizing the part that they were to be nice to her. B.J. could not understand why a Queen of a foreign country was more important than coming home; Ulrike and Valdar got all excited; Kestra just sat there, unmoved.

_So what, _he thought, _so what if that Queen wants Daddy to see her! She spent all that time with him when they had those adventures! Can't she leave him alone?_ He kicked a pebble along the path towards the Hatchery. _And how long does she plan to keep him there? A week? A month? A year?_ He kicked the door open, startling the bull Chocobo in his stall. "Sorry Vossler," he uttered as he collapsed on the pile of straw near the incubators. "I don't see what's so special about a Queen, just a girl trying to be King."

"That's enough young man," the cautious words of Aunty Ingra said as she entered, "Basch is a close friend to Queen Ashelia and I won't hear a bad word said against her."

"But I want Daddy here!" he sobbed, "He promised that he'd be here for my birthday, and that's next week!"

The kind old woman rested next to him, "He'll be here," she consoled, pulling him to her, embracing him lovingly, "You'll see, Young Master Basch, He wouldn't dare miss it this time, or I'll tear him a new one."

The boy laughed, "A new what?" he asked innocently, looking up at his now blushing Aunt.

"Never mind," she replied, "I'll write him tonight, remind him of what is most important." She stood up, lifting the five year old in her arms, "I think it is way past your bed time mister."

He replied with a yawn and fatigued nod, before falling asleep in his guardian's arms.

* * *

_Dearest Nephew,_

_I am aware that state business must come first, however, to a five year old who does not understand the ways of the world; it is a slight against him. I know that you are a loving father and you must think me a senile old woman for reminding you that it is his birthday next week and you do remember the promise you made to be there this time._

_I would suggest that you use your time in Rabanastre to buy him a present __**fitting his age! **__We don't want another incident like last year when you bought him that dagger, a real dagger, not a toy dagger a real one. I swear, you're just like your old Dad, Ulrich; remember when he bought you mother that crossbow? I thought she would use it on him! Definitely not the dress she asked for._

_Basch, you must make it home by Tuesday, it would break B.J.'s heart if you don't, bring the Queen if you must, the Emperor too and who ever else you want, just be here._

_With Love,_

_Your Aunty Ingra._

_P.S. warn me before hand if you are bringing anyone else, so I can prepare enough food._

Ingra placed the quill back in the inkpot and whipped her hands on the rag, removing residual ink from her skin. She picked the letter up and read it through, "Please come home Basch," she kissed the letter and folded it into the envelope. "Ophelia!"

"Yes ma'am?" a tall brunette stepped closer to the older matriarch.

"I want you to deliver this personally to Judge Magister Gabranth," she handed the letter to the young woman; "He currently is in Rabanastre. And make haste."

"Yes Ma'am," she gave a nod before leaving for the private airship Basch stored there for emergencies.

Ingra listened to the Airship lift off and head south, she wished she could have delivered the letter personally; see the look on Basch's face. She blew out the candle and retired for the night.

* * *

Penelo wondered through the Palace in the early hours of dawn, navigating the dark passages to the kitchens. This part of the Palace bustled with activity, staff from all corners of the grounds and, like her, was in search of sage.

The kitchens were the largest area of the Palace, not a singular room, but a network of rooms for each course to be served and within each room a designated quarter for every faction that keeps the kingdom of Dalmasca running as smooth as clockwork; however, if everything is running smoothly, then someone is not looking close enough. The cacophony of pots banging, raised voiced, knives chopping, crockery clanking, kettles boiling, cutlery chiming, dish washing, feet stomping and food cooking was enough to make any newcomer to the kitchens dizzy in the chaos. Penelo knew that feeling all to well; her first day in the kitchens was a particularly hectic night, the Summer Solstice feast with the Marquis of Bhujerba as guest of honour. The poor girl passed out with exhaustion, running the herbal tonics, of her creation, to ward off drunkenness, and they had worked until she could not bring anymore to the feast. The next thing she could remember was the Solstice morning, nearly all the guests passed out in the great dining hall and the few still conscious argued with each other over the pettiest of things. Penelo created her hangover cure that morning, a basic elixir with a dash of sage, to hopefully, make them reconsider drinking into a paralytic stupor again.

This morning was not any different that that morning, only less people to think about, Vaan and Larsa with Balthier, tasted every beverage in the Sandsea. They had lost Balthier somewhere in the early hours of the morning and the two remaining drunks found their way into the Emperor's quarters and passed out on the floor.

Penelo had only realised this when she woke up to find herself alone in her and Vaan's apartment. Sure enough, Tomaj had witnessed the whole evening, but refused to say anything about it without a cash incentive; Penelo only glared at him and left to search for them. A few of the Palace guard directed her to the Emperor's room where she found them, the door ajar with the two young men asleep on the floor, like they had just entered and fell down. Vaan, in all his grace and grandeur, slept with his posterior in the air and drooled on the carpet; Larsa lay in the foetal position and snored loudly.

In the kitchens, Penelo dodges and weaved through the mass of staff in search of the sage, the expansive spice rack held over two hundred varieties of herbs and spices and was written in _Old Galtean_, which only served to complicate her task. Finally, she found it, fresh herbs picked only a few hours ago; eagerly, she plucked a couple of leaves and left the madness of the kitchens, back to Larsa's room.

They had not moved. The gifted healer mixed the herb with the elixir and attempted to wake Vaan. He swatted at her to move away. She did so at first, but after a couple more times of attack of the autonomous hand of Vaan; she threw him onto his back and poured half the contents down his throat. With a cough and splutter, Vaan came too; his groggy eyes slowly focusing in the dim light.

"What?" he uttered, sitting up, "Where am I?"

"My room," Larsa replied in kind with Penelo at his side, "Thank you sweet angel of mercy."

She blushed at this compliment, Vaan ignored them, getting to his feet, "I should find the rest of our party from last night, I don't see Balthier."

"I think we lost him," Larsa squinted, trying to remember the previous night, "I really shouldn't drink, I loose more than just my balance when I do."

"Dignity," Penelo added, "respect, consciousness, memory; I'm so glad that not many people here can identify you, it could have been disastrous!"

"I'm sorry if I offended you, Lady Penelo," Larsa bowed his head to her, hand on his heart, "Please forgive me."

"Well," Vaan stretched, "Love to chat all day, but I have a meeting to organise of the pirating kind in the Sandsea … later!" the thief left without as much as a thank you to Penelo.

"Next time," Penelo sighed, "he will just have to deal with the hangover."

She rose to her feet, helping Larsa to his, "Have you eaten this morning?" The boy Emperor enquired.

"No, I came looking for Vaan in a hurry, didn't have time to eat," she confessed, shrugging her shoulders.

"Then let us dine together this morn," he pulled a chair out from his private table for her.

"Aw," she scuffed his already messy hair, "thank you Larsa."

* * *

The first frost had come early, the twins had risen before all the others to take full advantage of the winter conditions, the dewberries tasted extra sweet after a frost and Ulrike and Valdar would not let anyone else share in their spoils.

"I love'em when they're frozen!" Ulrike said, stuffing a handful into her mouth.

"Me too," Valdar agreed, mimicking her sister, "and sucking on them until they're mush!"

"Maybe we should save some for the others," Ulrike suggested, stopping the gorging, briefly.

"Why?" Valdar replied in between handfuls, "Not like they'd do it for us."

"That's true," Ulrike agreed and continued eating.

"Hay!" B.J. called out, running towards them, "Save some for me!"

"Go back to the house B.J.," Valdar shouted at him, "these are ours!"

"Aunty Ingra said they're for all of us, Valdar!" he shouted back, "So there!"

"Get lost B.J.!" Ulrike yelled at her small brother, "We've been waiting all year for these."

B.J. started to grab for handfuls of the frozen berries. "Go away!" Valdar pushed him over, causing berries to fly into the frosty air. He landed hard, his face catching on a branch of the dewberry bush, slicing open his smooth cheek.

"What have you done, Valdar?" Ulrike cried, dropping to her knees to help her brother back to his feet.

"Oh, you've changed your tune fast," Valdar argued, her hands on her hips.

"You've taken it too far," Ulrike checked the cut on B.J.'s face, "I'd better go with you, it looks bad."

"I'll just have the berries all to my self then!" Valdar called out spitefully.

"You do that!" Ulrike called back, supporting B.J. back to the house. "I've lost my appetite."

* * *

Ashe woke in her Knight's arms, with the sun already high in the sky, listening to his steady heartbeat. She sighed softly, giving him a squeeze. It was returned with the same warmth as the night before; "I was wondering when you would wake," Basch hummed softly in her ear.

"I don't want to get up," Ashe declared, nuzzling into his neck, "I want to stay here all day."

Basch crawled on top of her again, "As her Majesty wishes," his lips brushing against hers. Ashe giggled, completing their kiss.

"Make love to me Basch," she begged, rubbing her leg against his.

"All night was not enough?" he teased.

"Two years of celibacy takes its toll, even on a Queen," she grinned sheepishly.

"My Lady," Basch softly obeyed his Queen, moving slowly, her gentle moans, a Siren song to his ears.

Their lovemaking made them oblivious to everything; they did not hear the knocks at the door, nor the girlish voice asking if anyone was in, so Penelo entered, carrying the lunch tray for them. She saw the breakfast try was still sitting where she had left it; smiling to herself, she turned to spy the happy, sleeping couple. "OH! I AM SO SORRY!" the young blond squealed, dropping the tray, frozen to the spot where she stood.

"Penelo?" Basch shrieked, leaping off Ashe and covering to both of them. Ashe began giggling at the now Scarlet Knight and Crimson Penelo. "Why are you here?" Basch managed to ask once he would calm down a bit.

"I brought you lunch," she motioned to the mess at her feet, "And breakfast earlier."

"Lunch?" the naked man could not stop asking questions. "Is it that late in the day?"

"Yes, it's nearly two," She bowed to pick up what had been a platter of fruits and nuts, "I'm so sorry Basch, Ashe; I didn't mean to startle you." The embarrassed blond left with the clutter in her arms.

Ashe laid back down, "You're not thinking on leaving already are you?" she traced his muscular back with a finger, "You're not finished here, yet." Basch turned to look at her, her chest heaving for more. "Basch," her authoritative tone becoming more prominent, her eyes not letting him look away.

Finally he smiled, resuming his actions from earlier, "I believe your appetite has increased My Lady."

* * *

Penelo ran down the hall, glowing like a red beacon. "Penelo!" Larsa called to her as she ran past him without noticing him, "Is everything alright?"

The girl stopped, turning back to the Emperor, "Oh Larsa, I've done something wrong," She began to cry.

"It can't be that bad could it?"

"Basch hates me and Ashe thinks I'm a joke!" Larsa pulled her into his arms, hushing her sobs.

"Tell me what happened," he uttered, "It will make you feel better," _And give me more material! _The Archadian leader ushered her into his room and offered her a chair.

"I took the lunch tray in for Ashe and Basch, I knocked and called out but I got no response!" her eyes red and flowing from her tears, "They were ... and their not married yet, you know?"

Larsa laughed aloud, "You caught them ... in _the _act?" He could not contain his hilarity, "Ooh, they are in trouble, he hasn't asked for her hand to the council yet! Who's a _naughty _Judge?"

Penelo laughed at his comments, the thought of Basch breaking the rules was out of character, but it is not as they had never been together before, Ashe had told her, along with a few other big secrets, currently hiding in Bhujerba. "Basch _naughty, _that's a cack!" She chuckled, "Anyway, Ashe is the only one who needs to be asked, the referendum of 685 saw to that," Penelo explained.

"Oh? I had no idea," Larsa commented, "I guess it's not terribly important to understand the workings of a small nation's parliamentary processes." The young Emperor shrugged his shoulders.

"I over reacted, I'm sorry Larsa."

"Don't be," he grinned evilly, "I like the ammunition if Basch is to have a _Buck's night; _I hope Balthier will sober up for the event."

"Yes, Poor Balthier. Maybe I should go see if he's alright," Penelo suggested, her heart ached for the leading man.

"Unfortunately, he's in a holding cell of the Order, he got a little ... out of hand after you and Fran left," Larsa looked uncomfortable, "He was declaring his love for Ashe in the form of dirty limericks, you can imagine what happened when the General of the Order entered."

"General Tal Azelas heard Balthier's singing?"

"The mood of the General was such that I believe he would have locked Balthier up for just the bad singing, but the _graphic sexual _nature of the limericks just made him angry."

"Have you seen him today?"

"Fran's gone to bail him out, she knows the General apparently."

* * *

Fran swaggered up to the head quarters of the Order of Dalmasca; the Guards stationed out side just stared at her as she entered the building. She carried no weapons so she was a mere curiosity to them. It is not everyday a beautiful Viera walks into the barracks, they enjoyed the view.

"I wish to speak with _Captain_ Tal Azelas please," She asked, leaning provocatively on the clerk's desk.

"He has not been Captain for over ten years miss, he was promoted on the death of his father," the clerk spoke into her chest.

"He won't be if he keeps one of the Queen's closest friends locked up," she lifted his head to face her.

"Fran?" The gruff familiar voice of the General called, shocked at her presence, "I had no idea you were in town!"

"Tal, I hear you're a General now?" She turned to see his now mature face smiling back at her, his once black hair now flecked with grey, "Still as handsome as ever."

His mountainous body moved with the grace of a nobleman, "And you are just as radiant as ever," He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing it respectfully.

"I have a favour to ask, Tal," she looked up at him with wide eyes and subtle smile.

"I will grant it on one condition."

"What is that?"

"The Queen is holding a feast tomorrow night, come with me," he pressed her hand to his armoured chest, "Please."

"I am already invited," she sadly responded, "But I will sit with you," she thought for a moment, "what about tonight, just the two of us?"

Tal smiled warmly at her, "That would be acceptable. Now what is it you wish of me?"

"I need you to release the drunken fool, Balthier," she stated dryly.

"The sky pirate with the dirty mouth?"

"That's the one; Ashe would hate it if he missed tomorrow night."

"He told the truth? He is a friend of Queen Ashelia?"

"And the Emperor, and Judge Magister Gabranth and he is my partner."

"You are also a sky pirate?"

"Do you have problem with that?"

"Only if you two are closer than partners in crime."

Fran placed her hand on her hip, "If I were, I would not have agreed to join you for dinner two nights in a row." She moved in closer, "And I just might throw in a _Happy Ending _for you, if you're well behaved," she whispered in his ear.

"And if I'm not?"

"Then I'll _punish _you, General," She gave him a light kiss on the cheek, "Now, may I retrieve the lush pirate?"

General Tal resisted the urge to respond to Fran, nearly twenty years had past since they last saw each other; his heart truly ached for her. He had no idea why she left, but decided not to ask just yet. "You may."

They walked together in the direction of the holding cells.

* * *

Ophelia woke at the controls of the airship; it had been on autopilot all night. She wearily looked out the window to view the ruins of Nabudis, it looked so quiet, eerie in its silence, she shivered, gazing back at her control panel: estimated time of arrival read fourteen hours. She pushed out of the seat and headed to the small galley in the rear, it was stocked with tasteless, non-perishable foods and canned water. Her appetite vanished without warning.

She returned to the cockpit, "This is going to be a long day," she mumbled, staring out at the blue sky. Her eyes fixed on a patch of the sky, it looked _different_; how she could not say. It appeared to shimmer, yet not, as she stared a small black dot emerged from the underside of the … what ever it was.

The dot grew larger and larger as it descended; a ship of some kind, she had never seen anything like it before.

She watched, transfixed to its image, it was definitely a one-man craft and it appeared to be facing the same direction as Ophelia, towards the Royal City of Rabanastre.

The rear of the ship began to glow an unnatural blue, growing brighter the longer she stared. She dared not blink for fear that this strange craft would vanish.

Her eyes began to water as the subtle air conditioner in the cabin dried her eyes; she blinked and it was gone, vanished into thin air.

She looked up again, to the patch of sky that shimmered; it was back to normal, as if it was never there. Was it ever there? Ophelia could not say; her brain was still half-asleep. Had she imagined the unusual craft and the shimmering sky? She dismissed the whole thing, staggering back to the galley, determined not to leave it until she had eaten something and woke up fully.

* * *

"Are you sure this was such a wise plan, Master?"

"You question my strategy?"

"No master, only your reason for such a brutal attack."

"He will pay for everything, I will make him suffer as I have and he will beg for death when I'm finished with him."

* * *

I love it when a plot thickens don't you?


	4. Chapter 4: Hay Jealousy

Another chapter for you, I hope I can keep this up, now that my brain is functioning properly I should be able to ramp this up a bit. Enjoy!

* * *

Chapter 4: Hay Jealousy.

Balthier woke with a pounding headache, the sunlight burning his brain with its bright and cheery glow. He groaned, burying his face in the pillow as best he could. The lock to his cell clicked loudly; its screeching hinge echoed through his skull.

"Fuck off and leave me to die in my own misery!" he whined, pulling the pillow over his head.

"Well General, you are in for a treat," Fran's smooth, sultry voice filled Balthier's ears, "The a_lcoholically enhanced c_harm of the infamous sky pirate, Balthier."

"Gentleman sky pirate, Franny, there is nothing infamous about me," He grumbled from beneath the pillow.

"Your limericks said otherwise Sir," The General commanding accusation startling the hung over pirate. He sat up right; his blood shot eyes squinting in the light. "Your words were deemed offensive to the sovereign of Dalmasca as well as her citizens."

"Ashe always loved my dirty limericks," he pouted, his lip quivering as though he would break down and cry, "She loved a lot of the dirty things I would do."

Fran sighed, "you must excuse him General, He and the Queen were _close _during the war."

"Ah, so he's heard of the impending marriage with Basch," Tal commented.

"How do you know that?" Fran panicked.

"I was apart of the resistance during the occupation, I heard the news from Vossler," the Generals tone saddened, "I was also there to greet him when the Bahamut fell; he's a good man and he will make Ashe very happy."

This made Balthier worse, "Rip my heart out and stomp on it, it would be less painful than the thought of loosing Ashe forever."

Fran sat next to him, offering a hip flask, "Hair of the dog?" she suggested.

Balthier accepted it and down the contents in one swift motion, "He's a heavy drinker?" Tal asked, cocking an eyebrow.

"Not usually," Fran informed him, "this is a rare occurrence." She placed an arm around Balthier's waist and lifted him to his feet. "You had better not chuck on me!" she warned Balthier.

"Let me help," Tal offered, mirroring Fran on the opposite side of the ill man.

"Thank you," Fran, not surprised by this, he was always the gentleman. They began to walk Balthier out of the cell, "So, when and where?"

"Then Sandsea, eight; wait for me at the bar, I have a private room out back," His hazel eyes sparkled at her, "You can dress any way you desire."

"You're having dinner with this guy?" Balthier joined in, "Do I mean that much to you?"

"Don't flatter yourself, Tal and I go way back," She shot him down.

"I don't know how Fran feels, but she is the love of my life," The General declared, faintly blushing.

Fran shied away, "Tal, I ..." what could she say? That she ran because of how she felt about him? "I was quite fond of you," She finally answered; it was a lie.

"Looks like you are out of luck General, her heart belongs to a certain former Knight of your order," Balthier announced, as though it were a juicy piece of gossip.

"At least the Lady had enough decorum to refrain from public drunkenness, urinating in a public place, public indecency, and lewd remarks about the Queen and not to forget assault and resisting arrest," General Azelas formally stated. "However, as you are a friend of the Queen, I will tolerate no further impertinent behaviour from you, I do this for the friendship I have with your partner here."

"I'll just keep my mouth shut then, shall I?" His snideness grating on Fran's nerves.

"That's the best idea you've had," she replied, mimicking his tone.

Tal chuckled, "you two sound like my nephew and his friend. They're only five."

Fran lost her composure, laughing uncontrollably at the observation.

"Well Tal, I guess we can safely say she feels more than fondness for you," Balthier smirked.

"It's General Azelas," He quipped.

"Yes Sir!"

* * *

"What happened?" Ingra asked, taking B.J. into her arms, the cut on his face would not stop bleeding.

"Valdar didn't like B.J. shearing the dewberries …" Ulrike explained, watching her Aunty perform a regeneration spell.

"There aren't any dewberries on the property, they were pulled out last summer when the red spider infected them," Ingra explained, "only the wolfberries remain."

"Wolfberries?" Ulrike asked.

"Yes, they can give you quite the tummy ache if you eat them," the older woman looked at Ulrike.

"I didn't eat any," B.J. said hastily.

"That's good," Ingra sighed with relief.

"I did and Valdar probably is still!" Ulrike announced in a panic.

The woman chuckled, "Oh is she in for a surprise!"

"What about me?"

"Eat some cheese, and lots of it, that should counter it, or just stay near the latrine for the rest of the day," Ingra continued giggling.

* * *

Out by the wolfberry bushes, Valdar gorged herself on the sweet berries. Having the whole lot to herself was even better. Her tummy began to gurgle; she paused for a moment for the feeling to go away then continued. The feeling came back, then the awful sensation of a warm wet substance running down the back of her leg.

"Oh no" she whispered to herself.

* * *

In the Sandsea, Vaan, Filo and Kytes met to discuss their next 'mission'.

"I say we hit the ruins of Landis, the capital has been deserted for years and there is bound to be something of value there," Filo suggested.

"Great idea Filo, pillage Basch's homeland, hay why not the temple of Mount Bur-Omisace, which was hit by the Archadians too, so it must be good!" Vaan answered sarcastically.

"Why not Landis? Think of the treasure, the old senate had doors of solid bronze and was gilded with gold!" She begged, "I'm sure there are many museums that would pay a kings ransom for the riches stuck there!"

"It's haunted," Kytes added, "I'm on Vaan's side on this one."

"You're great at holy, so what's the problem?" Filo would not quit.

"Some of the strongest fiends reside in Landis," Penelo informed them, sitting across from the trio, "That and Basch would kick your arses into next year if you tried anything there."

"Thank you Penelo," Vaan grinned, "Hay, aren't you suppose to be up at the Palace?"

The girl flushed red, "I have the rest of the day off."

"Why, Ashe loves having you by her side," Kytes asked, confused.

"She has another to keep her company tonight for dinner," She sounded almost jealous.

"Again?" Vaan scoffed, "Damn that girl's got energy!"

"Vaan!" Penelo scolded him, her eyes wide with fear, "Not in front of the children!"

"We're teenagers now, Penelo, not children," Filo was not kidding; although she was still underage, she had began to attract attention from various males, namely Kytes and Vaan, even Tomaj had been caught staring from time to time.

"That's my point Filo, you think you can do everything, but it's a dangerous world out there, I don't know what I'd do if you got killed," She begged.

"Yes mum," the girl mocked.

"You know Filo," Vaan began, "Landis is a great idea! The old city is deserted and the many temples are avoided like the plague."

"Vaan!" Penelo stood in a huff, "I will not stand by and watch you pillage our friend's home!"

"Ever thought he wouldn't mind?" Vaan stood to meet her. "We would be preserving the heritage of the now lost Capital of Landis."

"Maybe we should ask him!"

"Fine!"

"Fine!"

Penelo left, angrily, knocking Tomaj to the floor.

"What was that about?" the stunned barkeeper asked.

Filo giggled, "Penelo's getting all righteous on us and Vaan's got other ideas; ideas that I happen to agree with."

"I don't," Kytes commented, "staring down at his beverage, "I don't want to go to Landis."

"Landis?" Tomaj asked nervously, "Now you listen to me, don't go to Landis, I've heard some rather nasty tales coming from there of recent, people being ambushed by an unseen foe who will pull your insides out from your proverbial. Just listen to Penelo, she's got her head screwed on that one, Vaan still is trying to live the fairy tale."

"So it _is_ haunted," Kytes said, almost mesmerised by the tale.

"Ghosts and Ghouls are one thing," Tomaj argued, "but this is something else, just stay away from there!"

* * *

Valdar had managed to sneak back to the house, her dress, shoes and stockings ruined by the faecal matter that plastered the inside of the skirt. Quietly she climbed the stairs to the bathroom and began to clean herself up.

For hours, she scrubbed at her clothing to remove the purple stain the berries had left, but to no avail. Depressed, she screwed up the now useless rags and threw them out.

"Are you finished in there?" Ingra asked through the bathroom door.

"I don't know what you mean," she replied.

"I should warn you," Aunty Ingra stifled a laugh, "There aren't any dewberries left on the property, there are however wolfberries, but don't touch them, they taste like dewberries but give you the runs."

"Thanks for the warning," Valdar grumbled.

"B.J. fine, he'll have a scar though," she informed the disgraced Valdar, "Ulrike told me everything, she's already been punished, but your punishment is to tell your Uncle Basch, what you did when he returns.

Valdar shivered at the thought, she had never seen her Uncle mad before, and quite frankly, never wanted to. She could only guess what his temper was like; if that scar was anything to gage by, she was in for a bad time.

"He'll be home for B.J.'s birthday," Ingra walked away.

"As if the wolfberries weren't enough," Valdar moaned, banging her head against the door, "I've lost my favourite frock and now dad's going to deal with me?" she collapsed on the floor, crying, "I shouldn't have got up this morning."

* * *

"You're seriously going to have dinner with him?" Balthier asked, "Dressed like that?" The pirate lay on his bed, watching Fran.

"Yes," Fran replied, adjusting the ornate coverings.

"I've never seen that outfit before, is it new?"

"No." She began to apply her make up.

"So why are you putting in such an effort for the General?"

"I have my reasons."

"Is this because I made an arse of myself?"

"No."

"Are you telling me that you would accept an invitation to dinner from him anyway?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"I have my reasons."

"Will you give me an answer that contains more than just the bare minimum bits of information?"

"No."

Balthier threw the book on the bedside table across the room, "Are you angry with me?"

No reply.

"Ah-huh! You're angry with me!"

"Balthier, I'm annoyed with you for being a fool, but my evening with the General is to catch up, I have not seen him in twenty years."

"He called you the love of his life."

"We were close."

"Obviously!"

"I thought you were all cut up about the impending nuptials."

"Don't change the subject."

"I was merely observing."

"Fran, we're like brother and sister, how could you not tell me about significant events of your past?"

"I don't like to talk about painful memories." Fran put the lip-gloss down. "I'm off ... Don't wait up."

Fran walked gracefully out of the room.

Balthier sat up, he was feeling better, but this General made him uneasy. He began to pace the room; he did not dare show his face in the Sandsea; so he decided to visit the Queen and her Knight.

* * *

"I'm getting hungry; perhaps we should call for something to eat?" Basch suggested, leaning against the headboard, the thin silk sheet giving him the barest of modesty.

"You can, I'm having a shower," Ashe leaped from the bed and strolled over to the en suite. Basch fell silent, admiring the view.

He pulled the rope for the kitchen and waited for one of the maids to ask what they wanted. Basch heard the water start running for Ashe's shower, his mind wandered off topic, picturing his love in this shower, the hot water running over her naked body, running her hands over herself.

A knock at the door broke his daydream, "Enter," his deep voice, boomed.

"You called Sir?" a timid young woman asked.

"I did," He was straight to the point; "Her Majesty and I require something to eat, something substantial."

"Yes Sir," he eyes remained on the floor.

"Is something the matter?" Basch was concerned for the girl; she had barely looked up.

"No Sir," she replied and hurried from the room.

He chuckled at the poor girl's reaction, but nowhere near as amusing as Penelo's earlier, he decided to make it up to her.

He sighed, nothing to do but wait.

"Whoa!" Ashe cried, accompanied by a dull thud.

Basch raced to the shower to find Ashe on her behind in the bottom of the shower. "Are you hurt?" He asked, helping her to her feet.

"No, I'm fine," she grinned at him, "My legs gave way."

"So no damage?"

"No ... but," she sheepishly smiled, "You could help me."

Basch chuckled, pressing Ashe against the wall.

"Aaarrggh!" She cried suddenly, "Cold wall!"

"I'll fix that," the Judge replied, nibbling at her neck, "I'll have you so hot that you won't mind being hard up against the cold stone wall." He lifted her off her feet, "our meal will be a while and we have time to kill."

* * *

Vaan marched to the Palace entrance with Penelo arguing at his side. "You should wait until they leave their room!" She yelled at the stubborn man.

"With what you've said, they've been at it all day, they would have stopped by now!" he yelled back, "No one can go all night _and_ day!"

"And Don't I know it!" they stopped by the door, Guarded by two tired Guards.

"Hay Penelo," one yawned, "Is the jerk giving you a hard time?"

"You told them I was a jerk?" Vaan asked indignantly.

"He wants to speak with the Judge Magister," She answered the Guard dryly.

"Huh!" the second Guard huffed, "You'll be lucky, since his hasty arrival, his honour and her Majesty have not left the room; no prizes for guessing what they're up too."

"They're in love," Penelo said.

"Well Queen Ashe is hot," Vaan added.

"I hear you there!" the second Guard gave Vaan a high-five, "Don't know what the Judge looks like though. He always has that helmet on: scares the hell out of me."

"Blond hair, blue eyes, sculpted like a master piece," Penelo described, "An Adonis to us mortals."

Vaan glared at her, "No he's not! He is scared and disfigured! Not perfect like me."

"Vaan, you are so far up yourself," Penelo rolled her eyes, "when you stick out your tongue it triggers your gag reflex!"

The two Guards laugh at Vaan, "Hay ... you go through, and good luck," the first Guard ushered them through, and the two young adults made their way to Ashe's room.

"Do you think they'll get in?" the fist Guard asked the other.

"Not a chance," the other scoffed, "Like Vaan said, Ashe is hot. If I were the Judge, I'd be doing the same thing!"

"I hear yah!"

* * *

Balthier decided to enter the Palace the old-fashioned way, by breaking in. The Garamsythe waterways were always left unattended, so he used the entrance Vaan told him.

What Vaan had not told him about was the rusty lock that kept the Palace safe from marauders. The Pirate kicked the door. "How the bloody hell am I to get in now?"

"Get her!" one of the officers of the Order yelled to anyone who was close. Balthier pocked his head out of storehouse five to see a raven-haired woman in a suggestive piece of armour running in his direction. "She plans to kill the Queen!" Now he could not have that, even if the woman was beautiful, she threatened the life of Ashe.

Balthier spear tackled her to the ground, "Get off me Archadian scum!" she screamed at him, pulling a dagger from her boot and trusted it at his throat.

"Now, now my dear," He replied calmly, pulling the knife from her hand, "That's no way to speak to a gentleman."

"Fuck you!" she spat in his face and escaped his hold.

"Oh no you don't," Balthier smirked, tripping her at the last minute.

"Miss," The General stood behind Balthier, "You are surrounded." Six more members of the Order stood around them, swords drawn and facing the woman.

"Never!" she cried, drawing her own blade and attacking the General with the ferocity of a wild animal. Balthier stepped back, watching the fight. "Death to Ashelia!" Now that does it!

He pulled out a sleep mote and threw it at the woman's head, the breaking glass cutting her perfect face; she dropped instantly to the ground, effectively ending the battle.

"Thank you, Balthier," the General thanked him.

"She wanted to hurt Ashe," Balthier explained, "I couldn't allow that." He checked his watch, "Don't you have a dinner with my partner tonight?"

"I will have to cancel, I need to question the prisoner," The General kicked towards the unconscious woman.

"You might need to tell Fran that, she's waiting for you," he informed the General, "And you're late."

"Take her to a holding cell, I'll return shortly," Tal Azelas ran towards the Sandsea.

The soldiers lifted the woman to her feet, her head bobbing lifelessly and showing no signs of waking. "That was a powerful mote, Sir, where did you get it?" one of the younger soldiers asked.

"From Judge Gabranth," He smiled, "out of his personal stash."

* * *

Ophelia's airship landed in the aerodrome of Rabanastre, her day had been uneventful until a conspicuous shadow in the rear of the, its mat black finish made it difficult to distinguish in the shadow of night, but still visible. That strange ship.

She jumped down from the hatch, almost running to the black ship, to touch it, confirming it was real. She got closer to the ship, until she stopped abruptly.

"What the …?" she stammered, and tried to push her hand further, but to no avail, it was like touching air, solid air. "Impossible!" she stepped back, fearful of this alien technology. Her feet felt as though they were made of lead, heavy to lift from their firmly planted position on the tarmac. She looked up; noticing that the light above the ship was rather bright, yet the ship emanated the shadow in which it hid.

She stepped back more, dragging her feet with her. However, the further she moved back, the easier it was to move her feet; she began to run, away from the ghost-like ship; her feet had developed a mind of their own, they decided where she would go, and that was out of the dock of the aerodrome. Her heart pounded in her ears and chest as she ran with fear.

She made it out to street, the west gate to the city when a thunderous explosion rocked the area, knocking all those in the vicinity to the ground.

She fell hard, hitting her head on the cobblestone street, a blinding pain shot through her head. The world spun as the pain eased; she reached up to feel the injury, the warm familiar trickle of blood ran down the side of her face.

"Miss, are you alright?" a small moogle asked Ophelia; offering a tiny fur-covered hand to help her to her feet. "Kupo! Your head! It's Bleeding!" he clamped his hand over the gash on her temple and began to whisper a cure spell.

The pain vanished and the blood stopped flowing down her cheek. "Thank you my friend."

"You are most welcome, miss," he bowed, the small lilac pompom bobbing up and down, "Do you have any idea what happened? Kupo!"

Ophelia thought for a moment, the last few hours had become fuzzy, she could see that she had arrived in Rabanastre, but how eluded her. "I'm not sure," she confessed, "I don't even know when I got here."

The moogle looked up at her sadly, "Miss, you have just bumped your head," he grabbed her hand again and began to lead her into the aerodrome again; "We should try to retrace your steps, kupo, help jog your memory."

"I have a letter for the Judge Magister, I should deliver it," she said, stopping in her tracks, "It is urgent."

"Kupo!" he squealed, "My boss is friends with the Judge Magister; they fought in the war together."

She smiled, "Then we have something in common, I work for the Judge Magister," she informed him, "I'm Ophelia, by the way."

"Kupo, I am Bonbon, apprentice to Nono, Chief engineer on the _Strahl_," he announced proudly as they approached the pirate ship.

"That crater," she pointed to the soldering hole under the light, "What happened?"

"That must have been where the explosion came from!" Bonbon squeaked, "That nasty black ship."

_Nasty black ship? _Ophelia's memory began to come back; the smoking void was in the exact spot it was only a few minutes earlier, "The one that emitted its own shadow." A sense of relief came over her, it was unnatural and it frightened her, to see that it was gone nearly made her laugh. "Why didn't it take out the rest of the aerodrome?"

"We would like to know the same thing!" a guard said behind them." Did any of you see anything?" The two turned around, four members of the Order stood before them in full battle armour.

"The ship that was there," Bonbon pointed to the hole, "isn't there anymore."

The guard who clearly was in charge slumped, his hand slapping his forehead, "That part we know," he sighed heavily, "Do you know _which_ ship?"

Ophelia stirred, "It was black, so black that it absorbed the light," her voice foreboding and her eyes red, "and an invisible wall protecting it."

"I'm sorry, miss," the guard bowed, "But you appear to be concussed."

"I know what I saw!" she spat, "Now can I please deliver this letter," she ripped it out of her pocket, "To Judge Magister Gabranth! He is expecting me!"

* * *

Valdar spent the night in her room; she shared it with Ulrike until recently, when Ulrike wanted some more space. "It's a mansion, how much more space do you want!" Valdar had screamed at her slightly older sister, who just grabbed her clothing and moved across the hall, into the spare bedroom. So now, Valdar was alone. After the nasty experience with the wolfberries, she did not feel like anything to eat. The thought of having to tell Basch that his namesake had a scar because of her, played on her mind and denied her sleep.

"Three more days, what am I going to do," she wept into her hands. A quiet rapping at the door startled her, "Who is it?" she called, trying to sound normal.

"It's me," B.J.'s voice called, "Can I come in?"

Valdar opened the door, "you should be in bed," she chided her brother.

"I was," he explained, "But I had a nightmare, can I sleep with you tonight?"

Valdar was taken aback, "After what I did to you?" she asked cautiously.

"You didn't mean it," he smiled, the bandage crinkling on his cheek, "daddy says we all do things we don't mean to and we shouldn't hold budges."

"Grudges, B.J. We shouldn't hold _grudges_," she chuckled at her brother.

"Whatever, I'm cold." He trotted in and parked himself in front of the fireplace, "Do you want to hear my nightmare?"

Valdar joined him on the fury rug; "sure," she placed her arm around him.

"I dreamed that we lost daddy because of that Queen he's seeing right now," he told her, pouting disapprovingly.

"I think you're afraid that she will take him away because he's visiting her right now," she tried to held B.J. "he promised he would never leave us for anything."

"Our first daddy said that and now he's dead."

"He died a hero, killing that tyrant Vayne, he saved the world."

"I wish he was here, and then we could have two daddies," he leaned into his sister, "Mummy would still be here too."

"Ulrike and I are hoping that Queen Ashelia will be our new mum, then we'll be royalty," Valdar smiled down at her brother, "You'll be a prince and be very important."

"I don't want to be a prince," B.J. retorted, "I don't like the idea of dressing up like a girl, I just want to help the baby Chocobos grow up and ride through the land on one. Not having to do anything I don't want to."

"Well I do," Valdar said smugly.

"You want to be a prince?"

"A princess, silly," she corrected the young boy, "Get to dress up in nice dresses and go to balls and meet important people like Emperor Larsa."

"You like him!" the boy pointed accusingly, "You love Larsa!"

"I do not!" she blushed, "He was an example!"

"Valdar loves Larsa," he continued, "OOooooH!"

"Shut up, I do not," she protested, "There are many important people we could meet."

"What makes them so important than others?"

"I don't know, they just are."

"Absolute power corrupts absolutely," B.J. commented, "That's what Aunty Ingra says, people with power can do some terrible things, even if they don't believe it."

"What does that mean?"

"I don't know, but it sound nasty."

Valdar yawned, "maybe we should get some sleep." B.J. nodded, following his older sister into the bed and falling asleep, instantly, in her arms. "I'm so sorry B.J." she whispered before sleep claimed her too.

* * *

"She has failed, and the ship destructed before its schedule."

"Good."

"Good?"

"Everything is going according to plan."

* * *

you might have noticed my love of the word _Nasty _well it sounds so innocent, that and I was thinking of Golem (Don't blame me, blame the fever) I couldn't fit Repugnant in quite so easily, oh well, there's always next time.


	5. Chapter 5: No Angel

_Enjoy!_

* * *

Chapter 5: Be Damned if I'm an Angel when I die.

Fran leaned against the bar in the Sandsea, her scantily clad form distracting the patrons of the tavern. "Fran you are looking radiant this evening," Tomaj complimented her, "Who is the lucky Gentleman?"

"General Tal Azelas," She replied, giving a shy smile.

"General Tal?" the bar keeper's shock evident, "He never dines with company!"

"Well he is this evening," Fran settled on the stool, "I'll have a G&T with a lemon wedge please."

"One G&T with a lemon wedge for the beautiful Viera," Tomaj smirked, moving to prepare the beverage.

Fran rested her elbows on the bar, the clock above the bar said it was quarter past eight, she was late but Tal was always late. Even after twenty years, he still could not be punctual. She sighed as Tomaj brought her drink to her. "Thank you, Tomaj." She stirred the ice around with her straw, watching the lemon juice escape from the wedge.

The General entered the establishment casually, still wearing his armour from earlier; looking as though he had been training with his officers. His hair darkened and slicked back with sweat, his face red with exertion and his armour clearly dented. "Fran?" he called.

The Viera turned to face her dining partner, "Tal," she greeted him warmly.

The General looked her over, the black vine like outfit covering the bare essentials, "You make this harder than I expected it to be," he sadly spoke.

"What's wrong?" Fran asked urgently.

"I can't dine with you tonight," he explained, quietly, so the rest of the tavern did not hear. "We've had an attempt on the Queen's life, and not so long ago, a ship detonated in the aerodrome."

A wave of panic swept over her, "Are they alright? Ashe and Basch that is," she questioned in response, the second issue not taking hold.

"They are oblivious to the situation as the assassin was caught before she could do any damage," he made clear.

"Any idea who sent her?" She asked seriously.

"Not a clue, she looks Rozzarian, but she wears the garb of Landis," The General looked worried. "The Valkyrie Guard to be precise."

"They were wiped out when Archadia attacked twenty two years ago!" She exclaimed.

"I must go," he kissed Fran's hand, "until tomorrow night." He left with a bow, leaving Fran alone at the bar with her gin and tonic.

"Tomaj," she called, despondent at the now eventless evening, "Can I have my tab?"

* * *

The General marched down the Palace hall, his footfalls echoing off the stonewalls, amplifying the urgency he felt. The staff automatically moving away, falling silent at the seriousness on his face.

Coming to the Queen's bedchamber, the imposing door halting his steps. Bang! Bang! Bang! He knocked heavily on the solid wood door.

"Ashe! Our dinner has arrived," Basch's voice called with a chuckle from behind the door.

"Queen Ashelia!" the General boomed.

Basch opened the door, his towel wrapped around his waist, "Is something the matter?"

The General entered the room, "My apologies, but I must speak with Ashe!"

"What's the problem, General?" Ashe came out of the en suite with a bathrobe on.

General Tal Azelas bowed in her presence, "My Lady, a woman has been arrested whilst attempting to assassinate you!" he stood up and faced a now worried Basch, "She wore the uniform of the Valkyrie Guard."

"Impossible," Basch felt as though his chest was constricted, "Landis is quiet, just a rural colony now."

"Relax Basch, I believe she was Rozzarian," he lay his hand on Basch's shoulder, "You may join us in the questioning if you wish."

"I'll be right down," the Judge moved away and began to dress in a hurry.

"General," Ashe asked, "Am I safe?"

"For the moment, you're Majesty," he reassured her, "The Pirate Balthier incapacitated her with one of the Judge Magister's sleep motes."

"So he's the one responsible for the heist of the Magistry's supplies!" Basch cried out, "I'll deal with him latter."

"We were caught unawares, there was no warning of this attack," he shifted to see how Basch was going, the man was just as efficient at dressing as he was with everything he did, "I have contacted other leaders of Ivalice of this. The Rozzarians are heightening their security, as is Bhujerba; The Archadian senate have yet to respond."

"Have you told Larsa yet?" Ashe was panicking now.

"He is in the company of civilians, whom are not privileged enough for this information."

"Vaan and Penelo?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Tell him, them too, they are trusted citizens and are personal friends of mine."

"Are you sure you wish them to know?" General Azelas queried, "It could cause panic."

"They are tougher than they look, General," Basch replied for her, tying his cape in place, "Penelo is quite the fighter, like a mimick, looks can be deceiving."

"I advise that the Queen and Lord Larsa wait in the throne room; I also advise her Majesty to dress with haste."

Ashe turned to the dressing room, throwing on the first thing she found.

"It also appears that a ship has detonated around the same time in the aerodrome."

"Do you think they are connected?"

"Could be, it only arrived this afternoon."

When she returned, Basch had placed his helmet on.

"I am ready," she announced confidently.

"Very well my Lady," Tal bowed, waiting her to walk past.

* * *

Ashe walked in front of the men, her eyes ready to kill the intruder, but she knew she would never see her, unless she was to be executed. Her swift feet carrying her straight to the throne room, Basch and Tal's heavy marching behind her comforted her in this time of stress.

"I will go to the Emperor," Basch said before veering off to Larsa's room.

"Tal," Ashe asked, "Have you told me everything?"

"No, you're Highness," he replied formally, "I am hoping our questioning of the assailant when she wakes gives us more information. But there may be a connection to a ship that exploded at the time of her arrest."

"Can we keep this quiet?"

"Unfortunately; she was arrested in Lowtown after she violently resisted arrest," He trotted up beside his Queen, "She made damn sure she was seen. And that loud bang from the ship, there will be rumours galore by the morning."

"Damn," Ashe cursed, "Keep me up to date on what happens; I'll get Penelo to observe the city, see what kafuffle arises."

"Yes ma'am," He bowed to take his leave as Ashe entered the throne room.

The court was quiet, with only the posted Guard standing to attention. Ashe slumped in her throne, "Get the kitchen to send my meal here," She ordered the nearest Guard, who obeyed, leaving for the kitchen hastily.

Larsa, Penelo and Vaan entered, escorted by Basch, "What's going on?" Penelo asked concerned, "Basch won't talk about it!"

Ashe looked up to her lover he shook his head as her silent question.

"I'll talk about it later," The young Queen never took her eyes off Basch.

The Judge Magister left silently, his foot steps heard echoing down the hall, leaving the young monarchs with their friends in the care of the Palace Guard.

* * *

Fran had returned to her room, finding Balthier pacing the room. His face a blend of worry and thought; he didn't notice Fran sit on her bed or when she called his name; only when she stood again, resting her hand on his shoulder did he acknowledge her. "I see your evening with the General was cut short," he said dryly, not surprised in the slightest.

"Then you know?" Fran asked as she stepped back from him.

"Fran, I was the one who brought her down, with one of the motes we _borrowed _from our Judge Magister," The sky pirate swallowed hard, "That bitch would have gotten into the Palace if it weren't for me." Balthier slumped onto his bed, "Her garb puzzled me, I've seen it before but I can't say from where or when? Moreover, why does she want to hurt Ashe? Are there others?" He rose to his feet again, "Fuck!" he cried aggressively, kicking his bed hard.

Fran took his hand, "Then we are going to the interrogation," she explained directly, looking him in the eye. He gave an assertive nod and the two of them left for the Order's head quarters.

* * *

Ashe sat with the others at a makeshift dining table to eat the meal Basch and she should have been enjoying; she was angry, so angry. "Penelo," Ashe addressed her long time friend, trying hard not to sound hostile. "You know the city better than anyone, am I still in favour?"

"Ashe, of course you are," the cautious dancer replied, "Has this got something to do with what you can't tell us just yet?"

"I can't answer that," the Queen responded sadly, "I do not know enough of the situation to discuss it." Although this was not entirely true, she thought it would be better to inform the others after the questioning.

"Lady Ashe," Larsa addressed the Queen, "This is absolutely delectable; I may have to acquire your personal chefs for the Imperial kitchens." The friends laughed.

Penelo chuckled louder than the others, "Larsa, it's a stew, please tell me you've had a stew before."

"I have not," the young man confessed, "The Archadian cuisine is split into classes, much like the social structure; something I will endeavour to change by the way; but I have little to do with my diet at home, my personal dietician carefully structures my menu each day to ensure I have optimum nutrition."

"Sucks to be you," Vaan told the young Emperor, "So you cannot like sneak off to the kitchens to have a bite to eat at any time?"

"When I was younger, before all the trouble with the war, I had tried to steal some dessert from the kitchen," Larsa grinned at the memory, "I took some chocolate mousse and retreated to my room, only to have my mother catch me. She was quite gentle with me, but I never got to taste that delicate dessert, I found out I was allergic to Chocolate, that and it was my mother's personal supply."

"I've never heard you talk about your mother before," Penelo commented, "I always assumed that you never knew her."

"I did, if only for a short while, she died just before that madness that consumed Ivalice," Larsa reflected on the length of time since his mother's death, "But there is no need to dwell in the past, please tell me, what meat this is."

* * *

Basch stood in front of the would-be assassin, it was true, she wore the garb on the elite Valkyrie Guard of his homeland, yet two things still puzzled him; one, why was she dressed in that uniform and two, why would she take up the appearance of a country that has not had autonomy since before she was born?

"She still slumbers, General," one of the prison Guards informed his superior, "that mote was very strong."

"It was only experimental," Basch told them, "Draklor had only just released it for field testing. The laboratory has not produced a satisfactory remedy for it yet. There is only one way to wake her and that is to attack her."

"Please give me the honours Judge Magister!" Balthier almost demanded from behind him.

"It's your fault that she is in this state, Balthier," Basch grumbled, "Couldn't you have used a regular sleep mote? Or stop or anything we can cure easily?"

"I only had a water mote and by the look of her," The Pirate stepped past the Judge, leaning over the prisoner, "that would have only pissed her off."

"Why are you here, Balthier?" Basch demanded.

"I heard her words, she screamed the death of someone we both care for," he smiled darkly, "besides, I can do things that neither you nor the General could get away with." Before Basch could stop him, Balthier clenched his fist and punched the bound assassin hard in the face.

She came too, her eyes struggling in the dim light to focus on the figures before her.

General Tal entered the cell, dismissing the Guards, leaving the three men with the captive. "This interrogation is not happening," he uttered to the prisoner, "Completely off the record."

She responded with spitting in his face. "Dalmascan scum!"

Tal smiled, wiping the spittle from his cheek, "Balthier, be my guest."

The pirate answered, "With pleasure General." He stepped in front of the prisoner, "What is your name?" he asked politely, with a hint of sincerity in his voice.

"Fuck you Archadian Fascist!" she snarled.

Balthier punched her again with a sickening meaty thud of flesh hitting flesh, "Your name!"

"Why should I tell you?" she retorted, defiantly smiling, flashing her bloody teeth.

"So you like my company," he sarcastically cried as he punched her again, her head bobbing groggily, "or is it my tender touch you crave?" she looked up angrily, "your name now or you loose a finger." Balthier pulled a knife from his pocket, holding the blade under her little finger, "Your name!"

She hesitated, feeling the blade bite into her skin, "Ilsa, my name is Ilsa." She answered, panic taking root in her voice.

"Now that wasn't _hard_ was it?" Balthier's smooth flirty tone returning, "Now Ilsa, why do you want the Dalmascan Queen dead?"

Basch quietly watched Balthier's technique, how very Archadian, normally he would have stopped the Pirate from this brutality, but this woman tried to kill Ashe, she was to be shown no mercy.

"Bite me pretty boy," she snide.

"If you like," He placed her ransomed finger between his teeth and bit down, severing the digit from her hand, the blood filling his mouth. He spat out the finger, "What on Ivalice do you eat woman; that tasted terrible!"

The woman screamed, clutching for her injured hand.

"I will ask again my dear," he calmly continued, wiping the blood away from his lips, "Why do you wish the Dalmascan Queen dead?"

"All the nations of the world will suffer for their crimes!" she growled through clenched teeth.

"So the Queen is not the only target? Interesting," Balthier stood up tall, tossing the handkerchief aside. "So who else is involved?"

"The Children of Landis will not sit by while our homeland is raped!" she screamed.

"Your homeland fell before your birth," Basch stepped in, "And you are clearly of Rozzarian decent, what should it matter to you?"

She smiled manically, "My father was of Landis, as is my husband, as are all the Children of Landis!"

"And yet you defile the Republic's memory by masquerading as a Valkyrie Guard!" Basch was loosing his patience.

"The traitor will suffer greatly for abandoning his home!" she looked into the lifeless eyes of Basch's helmet, "But _he_ will deal with you." She turned her attention back to Balthier, "Do your worst, you will get nothing else from me!"

"Take her back to her cell," Tal ordered the Guards outside the room. They complied instantly.

"So what will happen to her now?" Balthier asked as the woman was dragged away.

"She will be treated accordingly," Basch replied ominously before leaving the cell.

"And what does that mean?" The pirate asked innocently.

"Come to the throne room tomorrow," the General, informed him, "You will have your answer then."

"Judge Magister!" Ophelia called from the main office of the Order.

"Ophelia? What are you doing here?" he replied, taken aback at her presence.

"Lady Ingra sent this," she handed him the letter, which he read immediately.

"Damnit!" he grumbled, "I forgot about B.J.'s birthday, thank you Ophelia." He continued on his way.

* * *

Fran waited for Balthier in the barracks courtyard, the dark night sky covered with a low hanging clouds drifting south, the faint rumbling of thunder in the distance alerted her that the rains had come to Giza. She focused on the thunder, letting the deep reverberation of the lightning's sonic booms filter through her body. She hated it when Balthier interrogated people; it was the last thing he carried from his brief time at the Akademy as Judge Bunansa. The occasional scream of the woman made Fran shudder, her imagination running away with horrific imagery her mind conjured up.

Just as suddenly as it began it stopped, the screams halted and Balthier walked casually towards her, his shirt stained with the woman's blood.

"Did it really have to come to that?" Fran asked gesturing towards the crimson droplets on his sleeve.

"Fran we have a problem, a big one," he informed her, ignoring the question about the blood. "There appears to be a terrorist group, calling them selves _the Children of Landis, _and they are only just beginning."

"So if Ashe is only the beginning, what are they planning?"

"I know not; she clammed up, but I believe that Basch is also a target, one that is considered more important, or maybe it's Gabranth that is the target," he sighed with frustration, "This is creating more questions than answers!"

They watched Basch and General Tal leave the building, Basch hurried towards the Palace as the General approached them.

"Did you really have to draw blood from her?" Fran asked.

"It was an unavoidable side effect of the severing of her finger," Balthier replied indifferently.

Fran felt sick, she hated the way he could deal with this better then her.

"Thank you for your assistance, Balthier," the General said as he stopped before them, "We wouldn't have gotten anything from her otherwise."

"Any time General," the pirate responded with a slight bow. "There is still time for the two of you to make last rounds at the Sandsea, I suggest you make haste."

Fran looked at the General, "I don't know if I'm up for a crowd of people right now."

"Oh," his half-grin falling, "If that is what you wish."

"But a drink back in your quarters will suffice," she added, bringing his smile back.

"This way my Lady," he offered his arm to her, whom she gladly took and the two of them walked away, leaving Balthier alone in the dark.

"Now for some information gathering of my own," he uttered to himself, making his way to the Inn.

* * *

Quiet little Kestra read her novels under the light of her crystal lamp, something kept her awake, something she could not put her finger on. She tried to focus on the words of the novel, but to no avail. Frustrated she placed the book down and got out of bed.

She placed more wood on the fire, sat in front of it, her note pad, pen in hand, and wrote. Not once did she look down, the pen scribbling her emotions and fears for her father. Since the day he went into Nalbina, she stopped talking; never having known her mother, Basch was the only family she had. She remembered that day clearly, even though she was only three; it was when Uncle Vossler arrived with the girl Amalia came to stay with her for a few nights. After that, they went somewhere else and the resistance moved in, the day she heard the news.

"_Little girl," a young soldier called, "are you alright?" he reached out to Kestra who sat on a wooden box drawing a picture. She showed the soldier the picture; a drawing of a blond Knight, she pointed to it desperately._

"_Captain Basch?" another soldier asked, "he's been executed by the Archadians for the assassination of King Raminas." She never cried so hard, her little heart broke._

"_What did you do?" the first soldier asked, who put his arm around her._

"_Nothing I swear!"_

_She motioned to the picture again and back to herself, all the while crying._

"_You know Basch?" the second soldier queried._

"_Whitney, wait," the first soldier alerted the other, "look at her, those eyes." They both studied the sorrowful eyes she held, "and that hair …Oh shit, it's his daughter!"_

Kestra finished scribbling her worries into the book and put it away, then walked over to the mirror. She stared at her reflection, watching her mouth form the shapes of words, yet no sound came out. She tried hard to talk, but a hoarse breath was all she could manage.

Who was she kidding, she will never talk again. Her anger quickly dissolved into despair, yes, she had her father back, but those cousins of hers compete for his attention, shouting and screaming whenever he arrives home. They had the unfair advantage, they could talk. She kicked the mirror, miserably and returned to bed. She will give her beloved father the notebook one day, she just did not know how.

* * *

"So," Tal asked uncomfortably, "red or white?"

"Red or white what?" Fran retorted, settling into one of the chairs in the Generals modest quarters.

"Wine, I have one bottle of each," he shrugged holding them up for her to inspect.

"Ever the romantic," she grinned, "Make it the red."

Tal nodded and retrieved a couple of glasses and a corkscrew from the small kitchenette. "You hungry?" he asked as he poured Fran a glass of red wine, all the while, his eyes locked with hers.

"Maybe," she replied coyly, sipping provocatively at her beverage, "Something I could really sink my teeth into."

"I was thinking the same thing," The General leaned toward her, his bulk tilting the table. "What do you have in mind?"

Fran began giggling, the wine going straight to her head, "I would like to wrap my lips around one of Dalmasca's finest …" she wriggled her eyebrow, "_meats_."

Tal quivered, as his imagination worked overtime as to the meaning of Fran's words. He downed the contents of his glass, poured another, and did the same. "I am happy to oblige, my dear."

* * *

_My dearest Fran,_

_I apologise for this, but you will need to be in the throne room today, I have some errands to tend to. I cannot talk about them now, but it could help make things better. I will return soon, safely, so don't wait up._

_Regards your ever gallant and handsome leading man._

_Love, love. Kiss, kiss._

Balthier placed the note on Fran's pillow, knowing that she would not see it until the morning; Fran had the look in her eyes that said to him that the General was getting lucky tonight. He smiled to himself, grabbed his bag and left the room. He hoped Fran would not be too upset with him, but this was something he could do to help.

His feet carried him to Vaan and Penelo's home, the light was on and the sound of frantic hushed arguing could barely be heard from outside. He knocked softly, "it's me, Balthier," he whispered through the door.

Penelo opened it; the young blond looked scared at the sight of Balthier's shirt.

"Can I come in?" Balthier asked quietly, shivering from the night's chill.

She stepped aside, allowing him entry. Vaan stepped out of the kitchen, "By the gods, what happened to you?" he asked, spotting the bloody shirt.

"I'll explain later, but for now, you need to come with me," he looked down at Penelo, "I need you to stay here. If Fran asks about me or Vaan, tell her it's something we need to do."

"And what is that, Balthier?" her eyes wide with fear, "Has this got something to do with Ashe?"

"More or less," he replied, distracted at Vaan with his bag slung on his shoulder, "I'll bring him back, I promise," he rested his hands on her shoulders and kissed her forehead.

"Don't worry Penelo, I'll make sure this big dummy comes back too," he gave her a parting peck on the cheek.

"Be careful, the both of you," she finally said as they closed the door.

"Big dummy? Really Vaan," she heard Balthier chid Vaan through the door as they walked away.

* * *

"Begin phase two."

"You don't mean …"

"I do."

"It will take time."

* * *

Sorry to all those a little squeamish, I'll make it up to you I promise.

"Just do it!"


	6. Chapter 6: Blackholes & Revelations

Sorry for the late update, I've been catching up on house work :P

* * *

Chapter 6: Black Holes and Revelations.

"Could you please tell me what this is about?" Vaan asked, pleaded of his friend.

"Not until we get on the _Strahl, _Then I'll tell you everything," Balthier explained.

They swiftly made their way to the aerodrome; it was about to close for the night so they pushed themselves for the last few hundred metres.

"I'm sorry Sirs, but we are closing in a few minutes, there are no more flights for the day," the security Guard stopped them at the entrance.

"We have a private craft," Balthier panted, his bag digging into his shoulder painfully, "We're in a hurry."

The Guard stepped aside and the pair raced to their ride. Nono was snoozing in the engineering bay, but one of his apprentices was wake and allowed access to the ship. "Sir is not travelling with Lady Fran?" he asked, tilting his head to one side as though it would help him understand the reply.

"Do not worry Bonbon, we will be returning soon," Balthier glided past the puzzled moogle to the bridge, followed by Vaan.

"So," Vaan asked as he hastily took the navigators seat, "What is happening?"

"A woman made an attempt of Ashe's life," He explained as he brought the sleeping aircraft to life, "And I fear it is much bigger than it appears." The Strahl rose high into the air.

"So where are we heading?" the young pirate asked his friend.

"To Balfonheim, it's a good place to start," the ship accelerated with breakneck speed towards the Port.

* * *

Ashe sat at her private dining table by the window with Larsa in her room, playing fish to pass the time. "I can't see why we have to play such a juvenile game," Larsa complained as he was loosing badly.

"I like this game," Ashe smiled, placing another pair of Jacks on the table, "plus it's the only one I have a hope of winning against you; do you have an ace?"

"Fish," the young Emperor shuffled his cards about, "why do these cards have your face on them?"

"My father had several decks made for me," Ashe grinned, "My father has the face of the king, mine the Queen and four of our best Knights at the time for the jacks. The jokers are a couple of jesters that my father liked when they visited the country."

"I recognise Basch and the fallen Vossler, are the other two General Tal and I'm guessing his father the late Malger?" Larsa asked curiously, "Do you have a Queen?"

Ashe handed the card over, "You are correct; he was one of the greatest heroes of Dalmascan history," she sighed, "It is a shame that Vossler did not follow in his father's foot steps." A small tear escaped from her eye.

"He meant a lot to you didn't he," He stated, rather than asked, "Do you have a three?"

"Fish," she responded. "After I was widowed and we were on the run with the nomads of Giza, he protected me, cared for me; we became very close. Do you have a seven?"

"Lovers?" he asked, raising an eyebrow as he looked at her over his cards, "Fish."

"What? No!" Ashe flushed red, "Just because Vossler and I spent two years side by side, doesn't mean anything happened between us."

"I'm sorry I really didn't think that it ever happen," Larsa chuckled. "But Ashe, you do realise how cliché it would have been, don't you? Princess in trouble, brave Knight comes to her rescue and they fall in love. You can see how it could have happened."

"I did fall in love with a brave knight," she grinned, "just not Vossler."

"You and Basch deserve each other, you are both hopeless romantics."

Ashe giggled, "Do you have an eight?" she tried to focus on her cards.

"Fish."

Ashe reached for another card; "He is taking a while to return; do you think everything's alright?"

"I do not know; do you have a nine?"

Ashe handed him the card; "I hate these assassination attempts, they feel more tedious than dangerous after a while."

"I know what you mean, The Judge Magister likes to keep the ones on me a secret, but I have my ways of finding out; they all seem to involve explosives for some reason," the young man mused airily. "Do you have a two?"

She handed over another card, "Now that's just boring," she smiled, "At least you go out with a bang!"

"A six? _Gabranth _refers to them as amateurs and unimaginative."

"Fish. Oh? So nothing stealthy like a ninja in the night?"

"I suppose they think it would be easier not to look me in the eye."

"A king? Or maybe it's not adventurous enough for the young warrior Emperor?" The Queen smirked.

"Fish. Do I look that intimidating?"

"No," Ashe shook her head, "Not like your body Guard."

"Thanks a lot!" Larsa chuckled indignantly, but their mirth was short lived; Basch had returned.

In his full armour, he walked towards the two monarchs' playing cards without uttering a word.

"Basch what's wrong?" Ashe asked, with a hint of fear in her voice.

Basch dropped to his knees at her side, removing his helmet; his grey eyes red with fatigue and concern. "My Lady, the assassin may be only the first of many, I fear," his leather clad hands holding hers firmly, "You also My Lord must take heed, as the woman is a member of a new terrorist cell calling themselves _the Children of Landis._ Their intent is to cause chaos throughout Ivalice in the name of my homeland."

"Are we safe?" Ashe asked apprehensively.

"For now," Bash sighed with relief, "But we need to step up the security for the both of you, I've sent word to Rozzaria and Bhujerba of what we have learnt." He sighed again, "My Lady, you must bare witness to the assassin's execution at noon."

Ashe was nauseated, she had never had to do that before, and her father witnessed many executions of traitors, assassins and the worst of Dalmasca's criminals. The assassins always in the privacy of the throne room, so as not to cause panic. Ashe remembered the last execution her father witnessed, a practically nasty killer who cast doom on young children while they slept; she remembered his last words as they were screamed with bitter anger, as though he was prevented from saving them. "_I sort to save them the suffering of what is to come!_" the roar of the crowd demanding his death grew louder for a moment, and then fell silent. The soft prayer of the priest for the man's soul before the echoing thud of the axe parting his head from his shoulders; the cheering of the crowd was what she remembered the most, they celebrated like at a religious festival, music and dancing. Her father was sickly white for a week after the event, he would not eat or anything; it scared Ashe deeply.

"Can't anyone else witness it?" she pleaded.

"I'm afraid not my love," he apologised, brushing a strand of hair from her eyes, "You must, as Queen, you have to, it's your duty."

"Will I have to see it?" Larsa asked, just as scared.

"No my Lord," he responded, not taking his eyes from Ashe, "You are not the ruler of this kingdom."

The boy was relieved, but he could not help but stare at Ashe, she was shaking and pale. "I should return to my room," he suggested.

"I will have the Palace Guard escort you my lord," Basch turned his gaze at the young man, "Lady Ashe needs me." Basch rose from Ashe's side and guided Larsa to the door. The two Guards stationed there stood like statues at attention. "Emperor Larsa Solidor tires and is in need of an escort to his room." The taller of the two Guards bowed, accepting his new charge. "Extra patrols of the Palace are also required, have the Imperial Guards aide this evening."

"Yes Sir," the Guard replied and left in the shadow of the young Emperor.

Basch returned to Ashe, who still could not stop shaking. "Basch I do not want to do it," she begged, "Can I not imprison her for life instead?"

"That runs the risk of escape," He drew her into his arms, the armour warm from his body heat, "I'm sorry Ashelia, it has to be done."

* * *

Fran awoke in Tal's arms, their legs intertwined, anchoring the two of them in the bed. She smiled, noticing that he still snored after drinking. The cold night had spurred them to drink much and cuddle together by the fire in Tal's quarters. She did not regret this, but she was sure that the emotions she had managed to bury would surface once more and this could become a problem.

She felt him stir, catching his eyes as she looked to see if he woke. "I must still be dreaming," he said, stroking her face, "or I have died in the night and my soul spirited away to paradise."

"I am glad to say neither," she replied, her claw-like nails crawling through his hair.

The General smiled, holding Fran close to his chest. "So what's this about you lusting after the Queen's man?" he jested.

"General" she retort in kind, "I take great offence at that! I make one joke to Penelo and its taken as gospel!"

Tal roared with laughter, "Just as _fun _as ever, I see." He kissed her forehead, "I must go, as I have business to tend to."

"As do I," she admitted, "I must track down my partner and ensure he is behaving himself."

Tal sat up; his body had not aged a day since Fran first met him, body like an anatomy chart. "Best of luck to you," he said sarcastically.

"You have no idea how much that means to me," she said, wrapping her arms around his chest, nuzzling into his neck, "the sad thing is I'll need it."

The General sniggered; he rose from the bed to dress, leaving Fran to watch him. Methodically, he dressed; ritualistically placing each item of clothing on and checking it fit right. Fran always loved this about him, his pedantic habits, she never told a soul, but he was the one who truly inspired her to take to the skies, Balthier just happened to have a ship.

"So," Fran asked rolling over on the bed, "What does the General have on his agenda today?"

He became solemn, "A rather unpleasant matter to attend to."

"Does it have something to do with that woman last night?"

"It does, but it needs to be done, for the good of Dalmasca." He gave Fran one last kiss before leaving.

The Viera dressed now, slipping into the clothing from the previous night and made a stealthy escape.

* * *

The _Strahl _docked at the pirate port's aerodrome, Balthier had manually piloted the craft all the way from Rabanastre, while Vaan rested in one of the cabins. Balthier's adrenalin pumped through him, keeping him alert better than any coffee ever could.

The pirate landed the ship in the usual way, "What should we do if Lady Fran calls while you are gone, Kupo?" Nono asked, not liking the fact that Fran was back in Dalmasca, almost half a world away.

"Take a message," he joked, "and tell her I'll get back to her when I can." He launched himself down the corridor to the cabin Vaan slept in. "If you get any more beauty sleep, the criminals will be ravishing you _before _you are sent to Nalbina," he ripped the blankets off the thief.

"Hay!" Vaan replied, blindly reaching for the coverings.

"We're here," Balthier, informed him, "Time to get to work."

Vaan fell out of bed; his feet not yet awake. Balthier picked him up off the ground. "Alright I'm up," he whined, "What's for breakfast?"

"No time for that, we are looking for information about _the Children of Landis. _Be on the look out for every detail, nothing too small."

"Okay," he grinned, "I'm off to the Whitecap." He scooted off before Balthier could stop him.

"Just as long as you are not getting drunk!" he cried after him.

* * *

Fran arrived back at her room; it was still early, so she expected Balthier to be asleep, how wrong she was. All she found was the note he left. Reading it through, she calmly decided to disembowel him upon his return, the bastard pirate making her witness the execution made her sick. He could torture them but not the stomach to finish the job?

However, her thoughts turned to Ashe, the young Queen never had to witness such brutality before; maybe that is why Balthier wanted Fran to go, to comfort the Queen in this hard time. _Damn him!_

* * *

After a restless night, Ophelia contemplated leaving to return home, now that her job was done, but something begged her to stay. She knew the Judge Magister would probably forget to buy a gift for little B.J. so Ophelia decided to take the burden and buy the young boy a gift for him. Alone she travelled to the Bazaar, inspecting the stalls of hand crafted wooden toys. And there it was, the perfect gift for a young boy, a little wooden Chocobo.

"How much?" she asked the seller.

"400 Gil, love," he smiled caringly, "You like me to gift wrap it?"

"Please," she dropped the money into his hand, a few extra Gil for his politeness and watched him wrap the toy.

"Is this for your little boy?" he asked, making conversation.

"No, my employer's son," she replied warmly, "He's terrible at buying gifts, so I've taken it upon myself to buy the gift and solve any argument before it begins."

"My ol' dad was the same," the man said, grinning, "he bought my sister a make up kit when she was six, me mum hit the roof, from then on, she did all the shopping for presents." He handed the finished parcel to her, "There you go, love. Hope the little tike loves it."

"I'm sure he will," she placed it in her bag, "Thank you."

* * *

Balthier had reached the manor, Rikken sat with Elza in the dining room eating breakfast. "Ah! Balthier," Rikken cried joyously, "To what do we owe the pleasure?"

"Indeed," Elza added, leaning forward to make sure Balthier saw her ample cleavage.

"Not pleasure, I'm afraid," the gentleman pirate responded, "I'm here for a friend."

"That friend wouldn't happen to be a certain Queen we both know would it?" Elza teased, winking coyly at Balthier.

"That is not your concern," he said, looking Elza in the eye, "I'm here for some information."

"Now, now my friend," Rikken chided, "You still owe me for the last piece of information I gave you. Where is my payment for that?"

"I assure you," Balthier leaned on the table, staring at Rikken seriously, "I have no intention on backing out of our agreement, but this holds much more importance than a mere treasure hunt."

"I love the way your eye twitches when you're agitated," Elza smiled, resting her chin in her hand, "It's adorable."

Balthier ignored her flirtations, "What do you know of _the Children of Landis_?"

"Balthier, I'm surprised at you!" Rikken sarcastically chastised, smirking at Balthier's frustration, "Demanding information before the price haggled, that is not the way things are done around here. You spend too much time in _sophisticated society; _you have forgotten how the real world works."

Balthier punched the table, "Fine! What do you want?"

Rikken's lip curled into a devious smile, "For starters, the lovely Elza wishes to bed you," he gestured towards his companion, who winked flirtatiously at Balthier. "That will cover what you owe for the other debt. Now what you are asking for is pricey, I have information, but I know not whether it will be any use for your task."

"I'll be the judge of that," Balthier said impatiently.

"Now first the cost: I wish to know who this is intended for," he slyly asked, "Is it anyone we know?"

"Judge Gabranth, now may I have the information?"

"Ah, the prodigal son of Landis, how poetic," Elza grinned.

"_The Children of Landis_ have only one major objective: to regain their 'homeland'. However, their methods are brutal and sadistic; targeting all those, they feel responsible for the Republic's fall. They are headed by a man of around forty years of age and little is known about him, only that his name is Johan and he is bad news. My advice is, kill him before he can achieve his objective."

"Are they based out of Landis?"

"Perhaps, but they have a mobile base in the form of a cloaked ship I believe, but who can say?"

Balthier pondered on this, "Thank you, but I must leave now," he gave a quick smile at Elza, "a reign check my dear?" he left the way he came.

Elza huffed, "tease!"

* * *

Ingra opened Valdar's bedroom door, the girl had not risen as early as she usually did. The kindly old woman found her asleep with her brother in her arms, also asleep. Her heart warmed at the sight, "Now why couldn't you be like that yesterday," she whispered to them as they slept.

B.J. stirred, "Aunty Ingra?" he called sleepily, "Are you alright?"

"Of coarse I am sweetie," Ingra warmly replied, "I see you have made peace with your sister."

The boy wriggled from his sister's arms and ran across the floor to his guardian, "Is Daddy back yet?" he asked, hugging her waist.

"Not yet, B.J., but I'm sure he'll be here in time for your birthday," the matriarch smiled down at him. "You still have a few days yet."

"Can I have a party?" he asked optimistically.

"I thought we had settled that before," she sternly looked down, "Your thievery stopped that."

He sadly looked at his feet, "I promised I wouldn't do it again."

"How would it look if you were let of for stealing, with your Dad being a Judge Magister and all," she reproached the child.

"Not good," he sniffed.

"Come now, let's get your sister up and make breakfast."

* * *

The Whitecap bustled with patrons, some still there from the night before. Vaan felt his fatigue drain away when he spied a rather attractive young woman serving at the bar. He swaggered over and perched on a bar stool, "What's on the menu, Love?" he asked smoothly, grinning his flawless toothy smile, "I just got in from Rabanastre and I'm very hungry." He leaned in closer to her.

"The usual Sir," she replied, focusing on polishing the glasses, "Cookie's got plenty of toast, eggs, cured meats and fresh fruits." She looked up at him, "But if your hunger is of a different variety, that costs extra."

"I'll have a bit of everything, please," he ordered, "with a glass of guarana juice."

"The gentleman needs his energy?"

"I have a lot to do today. If you wish to know me a little more intimately, you will have to wait for another time."

"A bit tight on cash?"

"I never pay for sex, I don't need to."

"Oh? What makes you so different?"

"My dear, I have enough experience to tantalise the most reluctant of women and enough skill and stamina to go all night."

"That sounds like boasting to me."

"Than I guess you'll never find out." Vaan sat up straight, giving a superior grin, "My breakfast please, I'll be over on that table there by the window." He moved in the direction of his chosen table, leaving the young woman curious to his claims. He sat with his back to her, staring out at the sea; he tapped his fingers impatiently, waiting for his food to arrive, but his mind wandered to listening in on the conversation on the adjacent table. They spoke in a language that he recognised, one that he heard his friend Basch utter when they travelled around Ivalice a few years back, usually when he was injured in battle or stubbed his toe.

He reached into his pocket ad pulled out the recording device that he stole from Draklor and recorded their conversation. He did not understand a word of it, but he knew some one who would. He turned to see the two people conversing; one was a brunette woman with pale skin, she was pleasant to look at, but her companion was a large blond male with a gruff voice; he seemed to be displeased with his companion for some reason.

With a few harsh sounding words, the blond man slapped his companion and marched off, leaving the woman crying alone. Vaan made sure the man had left before moving to comfort the woman. "Are you alright?" he asked, standing across from her.

She looked up, her green eyes swollen and red, "I'll be alright," she said between sobs.

"I'm sorry, but you look as though you need a kinder friend," Vaan stated, sitting in the chair the man had just left, "Would you like a drink?"

She smiled weakly, wiping the tears from her cheeks, "That would be lovely, thank you."

"I'm Vaan by the way," he held out his hand to shake it.

"Carla," she said, clasping his hand, "Pleased to meet you."

"Likewise," Vaan sat awkwardly for a moment, "What would you like?"

"Coffee please, with cream and one sugar," she said, her posture mimicking Vaan's.

"Okay," he rose from his seat, "I'll just go order it then." He walked backwards, pointing in the direction of the bar; Carla giggled at his actions. Vaan's spirit lifted, her laugh gave him a sense of calm, that he almost forgot why he'd come here in the first place.

He made it to the bar some how, the same woman from before stood there waiting for him, "It didn't take you long to move on to your next target," she said bitterly, crossing her arms to emphasise her displeasure.

"I'll be dining with the young Lady now, so may I please have a coffee with cream and one sugar," Vaan ignored the glare she gave him.

"Fine!" she went around the back to make the coffee as Vaan returned to his seat.

"She does not look happy with you," Carla commented, looking at the barmaid.

"Maybe she's in a bad mood," he said, shrugging his shoulders.

The woman approached a moment later with a cart loaded with one of everything on the menu and two beverages, "As ordered," she said with a nasty tone to her voice.

"It appears that my eyes were bigger than my belly," he chuckled, "Would you like to join me?" he asked Carla innocently.

"Do I get any?" Balthier asked, sitting by the young man's side.

Vaan smiled at his friend, gesturing for the pirate to help himself. "Balthier, this is Carla."

Balthier looked up at the young woman; she looked to be of around eighteen years, "Pleasure, my dear," he kissed the back of her hand. He sat up straight, picking at the platter of fruit.

Carla sipped at her coffee, nervously, as though she were afraid to be seen with them.

"Is something the matter?" Balthier asked, as he picked up a citrus wedge.

"No," she said, finishing her coffee, "But I must go." Without hesitation, she slipped out of her seat and was out the door.

Vaan's eyes followed her out. "You know," Balthier started, turning to his companion, "You should have been seeking information for our mission."

"I did," the young man smirked, placing the recording device in Balthier's hands, "I think she is one of them, and her abusive companion from before."

Balthier placed the small speaker by his ear and pressed play, the sound of Basch's native tongue played back for him. "Well I'm impressed," The cocky pirate conceded, "You may have more information than I could gather." He popped a grape into his mouth, grinning as he chewed. "We should return to Rabanastre."

* * *

Carla ran from the Whitecap to the aerodrome. "He's not happy with you," a wraith-like man sneered as she approached the black ship at the rear of the hanger.

"I'm sorry," she cried, "I'll never question him again."

"Good, because you're his favourite and he needs you on board with this plan if it's to succeed."

"Johan has my loyalty, Wolfram," she glared at the man, "does he have yours?"

"How dare you question me, wench!" he snarled at the brunette.

"It's your wife the Dalmascans hold in their dungeons! How do I know you have not had a change of heart?"

"Ilsa is her own person, she volunteered for the honour, who am I to question her heart when it comes to Landis."

"I have known Ilsa since we were children, I highly doubt that she volunteered on her own auspice, I suspect coercion from you!"

"Oh look the peasant girl's learnt some new words to use, don't overstep your position, Johan won't tolerate it."

"Is he inside?" she asked, deflated.

"Not yet, he needed to blow off some steam. In the Cerobi Steppe."

* * *

Ashe had not slept a wink that night; she stared at her reflection in the mirror, cradled in Basch's loving arms. She could feel the seconds ticking by, the long monotony eating at her. Basch stirred, giving her midsection a squeeze, "Ashe," his gruff morning voice sounding as caring as it had the previous day. She broke eye contact with her reflection and turned around to face him. His eyes still closed, but his smile lifted her depression, "You didn't sleep at all last night did you," he said dryly through his smile, "Worry not my love, I have seen plenty in my time, they are not too dissimilar to the battlefield and you have lived through that alright."

"I know," was all she could say, her gut churning at the thought of her would-be assassin's execution.

"Remember that she wanted you dead, and if she had succeeded, I would kill her myself," he opened his eyes to see hers had closed, "One way or the other, she knew her fate when she decided to act against you."

"I know you're right, Basch, but it's not a reassuring thought, what if we anger her group? Will they seek revenge?"

"Ashe, there will always be people who want you dead, Larsa too, even myself, the trick is not to let it get to you," he kissed her forehead, "But why anyone would want someone as brilliant as you dead is beyond me. Perhaps they're a few shots of Madhu short of a good time."

Ashe giggled, relieving Basch tension a little; his own anxiety for the noon execution was as bad as hers. He remembered when he had to perform them, as a captain of the order; he along with others of his rank handled the public executions where as the Generals would deal with the more discreet private executions of the direct crimes against the throne; he did not envy Tal in the slightest.

"Basch?" Ashe called, breaking his train of thought, "Should we still hold the official welcome and wedding announcement?"

"We must, as cancelling it would indicate you have been rattled by the attempt on your life, you must be defiant."

"I know I can be with you by my side," she stated, nuzzling into his shoulder. Basch stroked her hair, staring at the clock on the far wall; she still had two hours until she had to move.

"I received a letter from my Aunty Ingra," Basch announced, "it's B.J.'s fifth birthday in two days, if you like, we can leave straight after tonight's event and be there for his party." His innocent eyes waiting for Ashe to reply, "If you like."

"That would be lovely," she replied, giving him a heart-felt squeeze.

The gentle knock at the door alerted them that Penelo had arrived with breakfast. "Enter." Basch called out.

Penelo entered with a solemn expression painted across her face, she too looked as though she had not slept that night.

"Penelo? Are you alright?" Basch asked; this caused Ashe to turn to see the young woman.

"Vaan disappeared with Balthier last night without telling where they were going, why or when they will be back," she bit back the tears of frustration, "Balthier turns up at midnight, covered in blood and drags Vaan off on some adventure without explanation."

"Why did Balthier have blood on him?" Ashe asked Basch who deflected the question.

"They said nothing of where they were going?"

"All he said was its something he needs to do," Penelo explained, "I'll kill him and Vaan when they get back!"

"Easy Penelo," Basch begged her, "I'm sure it's not anything to get angry over; and as for the blood, that I'm afraid, is not to be discussed." He said more to Ashe than Penelo. "Penelo, why don't you spend some time with my young lord, he always enjoys your company."

"That's a great idea, thanks Basch!" Penelo left the room in a slightly better mood than she had entering.

"Not to be discussed?" Ashe asked, annoyed that Basch would command her in such a way.

"Ashe," he sighed, "there are some things that a monarch should not sully their hands on, what Balthier did was one of them and that is all you are getting from me on the matter." He touched her nose in a patronising way, like what he did to her when she was a child.

She brushed his hand away with a displeased glare.

* * *

Noon was approaching fast, Balthier and Vaan pushed the _Strahl_ to maximum speed; they needed to return before the execution. "Do you think we'll make it?" Vaan yelled over the screaming engines.

"Well be in radio contact with Dalmasca in a few minutes. Let's hope that someone will hear us!" Balthier responded in kind.

"Do you think she'll talk to us?"

"I'll make her talk! She still has many fingers left and all her toes, which should get us what we need."

Vaan began calling the Palace, his frantic demands to the communication centre of the grand city. "Rabanastre, this is the Strahl. Halt the execution immediately!" he repeated himself over and over again without response.

* * *

Ashe wore black, as did all those attending; Fran stood by her side with Basch a few steps ahead. General Tal Azelas stood silently, holding a mighty axe, whose sharp blade rested on the polished marble floor.

The clock ticked loudly: ten minutes to go.

One of the Lieutenants entered with the block, stained with the countless deaths experienced on it since the beginning of the previous century. He placed it on the sun emblem, the place where the sunlight hits at noon.

"Bring the prisoner," Ashe commanded, her voice showing no signs of weakness. Several Guards left for the dungeons.

* * *

I know, another cliff hanger, been watching True Blood, guess it rubbed off on me. heh heh heh


	7. Chapter 7: No Good Deed

I was in a bit of a silly mood when I wrote this, I hope it doesn't show too much, _Happy Reading!_

* * *

Chapter 7: No Good Deed _Ever_ Goes Unpunished.

"Rabanastre, this is the Strahl. Halt the execution immediately!" Vaan cried hysterically.

"This is Rabanastre, we hear you," the radio finally responded, the signal faint and polluted with static.

"You need to halt the execution, we have information and wish to question the prisoner for more," Balthier said, taking over from the now hoarse Vaan.

"Will do, over and out," the radio confirmed. Now all they could do was wait.

* * *

The Prisoner entered the throne room, surrounded by the Palace Guard; she was handcuffed and chained. Ashe looked the woman in the eye; she was younger than Penelo, no more than eighteen. The woman had a malicious, bitter gaze; all sympathy for her left Ashe.

"Ilsa, of the terrorist organisation: Children of Landis," General Tal announced, "you have been found guilty of the attempted assassination of our noble and virtuous Queen, Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca, attempting to drag Dalmasca into a state of Anarchy, Being a member of a Terrorist organisation and resisting arrest, have you any last words?"

"None you would care to hear," She snarled.

Ashe gave a nod; the Guards removed her binds and forced her to her knees. She fought against them as her head slammed into the bloodstained block.

The grand clock began to chime noon, one, the doors to the throne room were closed. Two, Ashe swallowed hard, sinking into her throne. Three, Basch stole a glimpse of his beloved's ashen face and sighed. Four, the high priest open his book of prayers. Five, the priest began to read the prayer for the condemned soul. Six, the prisoner began to shake. Seven, Ashe placed her hand across her mouth, holding it shut. Eight, the prisoner began to cry. Nine, faint cries could be heard from down the hall. Ten, the priest finished his prayer and closed his book. Eleven, Tal gave a heavy sigh and lifted the large axe above his head.

"Stop the execution!" cried a timid man, on the twelfth chime, "Stop! Wait!" He burst into the room, panting from the exertion, "We have word from the _Strahl, _and they wish to question the prisoner again."

Ashe waved for Tal to put the axe down, "When are they expected to arrive?" She asked, relieved that her gruesome task was delayed.

"E.T.A. in approximately one hour," the man said.

"Thank you," Basch said upon seeing his love relax visibly in her seat.

"Take her back to her cell," The General ordered; also relieved his duty did not include ending a life for the moment.

Even the prisoner sighed with relief as she was dragged back to her cell.

* * *

"Can't we play another game?" Larsa complained, folding his cards from loosing another round.

"Larsa, you told me you liked this game," Penelo commented as she collected her winnings.

"Yes, when I'm winning," he grumbled.

"You're too young to be gambling anyway," the blond giggled, shuffling the cards, "you're only fifteen."

"I'm Emperor," he stated dryly, "and I'm good at this game … usually."

"Ever thought they let you win?" Penelo asked, raising an eyebrow at him as she dealt the next round of cards.

"Or you are much better at it than I," he retorted.

"Come off it, Larsa," she chuckled, "If you want a lesson in cards, play Balthier when he gets back, Vaan calls him a card shark."

The young Emperor pondered over his cards, but his mind was nowhere near his hand, truth be told, he couldn't concentrate on the game, not with Penelo sitting across from him. Those sapphire eyes, her golden hair and that cute smile, he died a little each time she flashed those perfect teeth or when she wiggled those hips as she danced. At that moment, he really hated Vaan, the confession the thief had made the other night only made it worse.

"Larsa?" Penelo called him back from his daydream, "are you in?"

He sighed, "I'm in," he tossed a few tokens to the centre of their card table.

"Cheer up, Larsa," she said, studying her cards, "Don't want to play anymore?"

"Not really," he admitted, "How about a walk through the garden? Or a drink at the Sandsea?"

"Alright," Penelo packed the cards up swiftly, "Been getting bored here anyway." She stood up, habitually smoothing her skirt.

Larsa's gaze settled on her flat, exposed stomach, perfect milky white skin, her navel piercing so shiny … piercing? "When d'you get that?" he asked, horrified that his wonderful Penelo would mutilate her body like that.

"You like it?" she asked proudly, "Vaan got it for me for my birthday this year," she waved the sparkling gem side to side, "Vaan got one on his …"

"I don't want to know," Larsa cried, his mind already flooded with visual images, "Did you have to do that to yourself?"

"I happen to like them," she retorted, placing a hand on her hip, "At least I didn't get the tattoo."

"No, I believe the future Empress of Archadia should be more careful!" Larsa's face dropped at the realisation of his words.

"Excuse me?" Penelo could not believe her ears, "You're kidding right? I mean you still have that Rozzarian chick, what's her name? Zorida?"

"Zoraida," he corrected her, "And it's not written in stone."

"Larsa, I'm flattered, but you're still a kid," she did not really know how to react, she knew he had feelings for her, but he never said anything, which made it easy to forget. He was only fifteen, and with that, she never regarded him as anything other than a child, but as she was now vividly aware, he was growing up.

"I may be fifteen," he responded, the hurt clearly evident in his voice, "but I am no child! If my love for you offends you, then I am sorry, you will not be bothered by them again." He left the room, slamming the door behind him.

"Oh no," the blond dancer sighed, slumping in the chair.

* * *

Larsa made his way to his room; he felt like such a fool, how could he be so stupid? He should not have blurted out his inner heart's feelings for the earth-bound angel that was Penelo; but his biggest fear was confirmed, she saw him as a child, which meant that she did not love him the way he wanted her to love him, but how could a twenty-year-old sky pirate find him attractive.

"Larsa?" the calm, mature call of Penelo came from the door, "Can we talk?"

"So you can hurt me again?" he asked, filled with bitterness.

""I didn't mean to hurt you," she admitted, closing the door quietly behind her, "You took me by surprise."

"Really?"

"Well sort of," she shuffled over to his side, "but I just assumed that it was just a crush."

He looked away to the window, "then you assumed wrong."

"Look," Penelo reached for his hand, "you are still two years off of being legal, and I'm also with Vaan."

"You're too good for him," the young Emperor grumbled, "would I have a chance? In two years."

"We'll see," she kissed his cheek, "let's go for that drink, I'm going to need a few before tonight."

Larsa chuckled, "So you are going?"

"Yes, I volunteered to serve drinks but Ashe wouldn't let me," she confessed jovially, "She's making me go as a guest."

* * *

Basch and Tal waited in the aerodrome for the _Strahl _to dock. The crowds were boisterous as usual, travellers from all over Ivalice bustling around the odd pair.

"How much longer are those two going to be?" Tal asked, shifting from side to side, his feet aching from standing there for so long.

"Go back to the Palace, I'll wait for them," Basch said to his friend.

"Thank you Gabranth," the General left for the Palace, his fatigue catching up with him.

Basch continued to stand and wait, "Sir?" a familiar voice called behind him.

"Ophelia?" he responded, turning around to meet her, "Heading home?"

"Yes, I am, sir," she replied with a bow. "Will you be coming to B.J.'s birthday?"

"I will, and I will be bringing a guest," She would have seen him smirk if he had taken his helmet off.

"Your Aunt will be happy to hear that," the young woman smiled. She stirred for a moment, "Um, Sir?"

"Yes?"

"I heard a rumour that there was an attempt on the Queen's life, does it have anything to do with that black ship that blew up last night?"

"I suspect so, but it's not for me to discuss with you, you understand."

"Oh I do, I saw it on my why here … that black ship."

The Judge Magister's attention turned completely to Ophelia, "You saw it?"

"Yes," she explained, "it appeared out of a shimmering patch of sky and flew faster than anything I've ever seen!"

"Shimmering patch of sky?" his mind racing, "Where was that?"

"Over the ruins of Nabudis, it looked like a mass of heat distortion."

"That doesn't make any sense, this black ship, what can you tell me about it?"

"Only that it scares me, everything about it was creepy; I'm relieved that it blew up, now I can return home without having to see it." She looked towards the hanger, "I should get going, and it's a long flight back to the estate."

"Alright," Basch patted her shoulder, "I'll see you in a few days."

"Yes sir," Ophelia shuffled her bad to the other hand, "I'll see you later." She began to walk away, "Oh, one more thing," she added, "I've left you a little something for you to give to B.J." She gave a brief smile and jogged off to her ship.

Basch resumed waiting, which fortunately, was not long. The _Strahl_ docked at the far end of the Aerodrome and an excited Vaan and solemn Balthier strode towards the Judge Magister.

"What news have you found?" Basch found himself begging hastily.

"I wish to question the prisoner again," Balthier, said dryly, splashing on cologne, "Immediately."

"Oh! Can I come," Vaan asked like a child wanting to go shopping with a parent.

"If you think you can stomach it," Basch informed the young man.

* * *

The trio joined General Azelas in the dungeon under the Palace, Ilsa was tied to a chair in the dimly lit room, she prayed in Landian for mercy from her captors, but only Basch understood her and was not going to translate her wishes to anyone. "Gentlemen," the General greeted them, stepping aside to allow Balthier access to the Prisoner. "The pirate has an apprentice?"

"He's not my apprentice," Balthier corrected him, rolling up his sleeves; "He will assist with the questioning." Vaan smiled weakly as the reality of his request began to sink in. "Now my dear," the pirate cooed, forcing Ilsa's gaze towards him, "Where were we."

The half-sane glint in Balthier's eye seamed to indicate that this was not going to be pleasant for anyone. "No," she begged feebly, tears filling her eyes.

"Then you had better talk my dear," He pulled his chair closer to her, "I would hate to resort to the methods of our previous encounter, do you have any idea how hard it is to remove blood from a silk shirt?"

"I can't, he will kill me," she sobbed, her tough act the night before completely gone.

"Would that be Johan?"

Ilsa gasped, shocked that anyone would know; fear began to take over.

"I see that is a yes, I wish to know more about this Johan."

"No, no, no, no, no!" she shook her head with disbelief, "I mustn't tell you anything!"

Balthier shot her a mischievous smile, "How many fingers do you have left, my dear?"

Her eyes widened with horror, and shook her head in a crazed effort to deter him.

Vaan's stomach began to turn as Balthier lifted her hand, bandaged in blood soaked linen. He unwrapped it slowly, like a gift from a loved one. The swollen stump where her little finger once sat, Balthier studied it, his teeth marks still visible around the wound, "I believe those with reputations to protect should leave now, I would hate for my actions this afternoon to tarnish their good humour for this evening."

Vaan was the first through the door, followed by Tal then Basch, leaving Balthier alone with the woman.

Her breathing quickened as Balthier roughly grabbed her chin, "I know that Johan is the boss, I'm guessing he also heralds from the former Republic of Landis, but that is unimportant right now," He revealed his knife again to her. "I will relieve you hand of the digits it holds, one by one and painfully slow for each unsatisfactory answer you give me, is that clear?"

She nodded fearfully as he held the ring finger against the sharp blade.

"Who else is Johan planning to assassinate?"

"His next target is Larsa, but other than that, I do not know," she winced, awaiting the stinging pain of his blade to slice through her flesh.

"Where can we find Johan?"

Ilsa sighed with relief that he did not sever her finger, "He never resides in one place, but travels on a cloaked barge, it travels in the stratosphere, higher than any ship before, so finding him is near on impossible."

He pressed the blade hard up against her skin, "Why should I believe you? I have not heard of ships travelling so high up; or are you trying to feed me Chocobo shit?"

"NO! It is the truth, I swear, we stole it from the Rozzarians at the end of the war with Archadia," She quickly explained as her finger became acquainted with his blade, "I helped with its _liberation, _from a secret hanger."

He released the blade once more, "What is your name, your full name."

"Ilsa Adlersflügel," she replied, defeated.

"Your married name?"

"Yes."

"Hmm," Balthier stood, tapping his chin in contemplation, "Is there anyway to contact the ship Johan resides on? A way to detect it?"

My ship has a beacon on board, it signalled at midnight last night automatically, to either retrieve me or destroy the evidence of my existence," She paused, expecting Balthier to react badly to this.

"That's quite an ingenious idea. What about to detect it?"

"It has a thermal exhaust vent under the ship, it is unique, but you must be with in a hundred feet of it to detect it and by that time they would have seen you."

"Thank you, you have been most helpful," he left the cell, leaving her alone in the room, where she quietly wept.

* * *

Vaan parked himself in the corner of the Sandsea, with a mug of ale in one hand and a club sandwich in the other. It was early afternoon, yet he was already tired, so tired he could swear he just saw Larsa and Penelo enter and take a seat on the balcony. It probably was them, they were inseparable, "Great Faram's Light! Can't those two do anything alone?" he whined into his ale, he watched them giggle to what he presumed was a joke.

"… And it was only the size of an ant," Penelo giggled hysterically, "But what ever you do, don't tell Vaan I told you, he'll kill me!"

"I don't believe it!" Larsa laughed, "Vaan arachnophobic, just like Vayne!"

"Vayne had a fear of spiders?"

"All insects really, and snakes," Larsa took a bite from his slice, "when I was younger, I planted a rubber spider in his bed, he squealed like a little girl!"

"You want men crying?" Penelo folded her arms, "Our good friend Balthier, on our way out of Archades, ran into an old 'sweet heart' and her husband …"

"What are they laughing about?" Vaan asked himself, still watching them. His sandwich now left on the plate at his side, "What could be so funny?" Vaan felt out of place, as if he should not be there. After another unheard joke, he decided on taking up a hunt he read earlier, take his mind off things.

* * *

Balthier emerged from the passages leading to the cells, his shirt clean and grinning happily. Basch was surprised, but relieved that he did not question her like the night before.

"What have you learnt, Balthier?" Basch asked, walking towards him.

The Pirate smiled jovially, "That _persuasion_ mote of yours works a treat, you should sell it," he said, patting the Judge's back.

"What?" the colour drained from his face, "You used the _persuasion_ mote on yourself?"

"Yes, and it works a beautifully, Draklor has definitely improved a lot since my father _retired_," he noticed the horror on Basch's face, "Is there something wrong?"

"The _persuasion_ mote had some side effects that caused some discomfort to those who used it, the most notable being a rash over the more _delicate_ areas of the body," a smirk began to grow across the man's face as he flashed a glimpse of the pirate scratching at his crotch.

Balthier's good mood vanished, "What?" he asked, deadly serious.

"Don't worry; it goes down in a week or so."

"A WEEK? You should have a warning on the label!" Balthier scolded Basch, who had began to chuckle at the pirate's discomposure as the scratching became more vigorous.

"It was a sample bottle for studying, you stole it, and so you must reap the consequences of your actions," Basch was bordering on hysterics.

"Is there something I can do?" his eyes pleading with the Judge Magister.

"I have an ointment that could ease the irritation, but it's in my bag back at the Palace."

"It's no good to me in there! Please, get it for me," Balthier's hand moving so fast to deal with the inflammation, it looked obscene.

The Judge managed to compose himself enough to lift Balthier off the ground and flung him over his shoulder. "Please refrain from scratching while I carry you, it would not bode well for either of our reputations," Basch said in mock calm.

"You had better hurry," Balthier cried, "Because that gardbrace of yours looks quite inviting right now."

Basch ran towards the Palace, "Don't even think about it, pirate; or I'll make you wait!"

"Understood," Balthier, whined. They were now in the Palace, heading for the Queen's chambers; Balthier's face was bright red, as was Basch's, as they raced through the corridors.

The Queen's chamber was unoccupied, much to Balthier's relief, but it did not make the embarrassing situation any more comfortable. Basch threw him down on the bed and whipped his trousers off.

"Do you mind Sir? I am quite capable of doing it myself," Balthier quipped as he looked down to assay the damage, "For the love of…" what he saw almost made him cry, his love muscle was red and covered in hives, "Will I ever be able to…"

"Yes, but you must leave it for a month or so, to let it heal," Basch said over his shoulder as he rummaged through his bag for the curing ointment. He stopped when he heard a blood-curdling scream from the foolish pirate, "I would stop scratching about now before you cause permanent damage."

"It hurts when I touch it!"

"Then don't touch it!" Basch stood up triumphantly holding the small pot of ointment, "I have it." He strode over to Balthier, the angry rash visibly throbbed, "Balthier?"

"Yes?"

"We will never talk of this ever!"

"Agreed."

Basch swallowed hard as he reluctantly opened the jar.

"You had better not use those rough gloves on me."

"I'm not doing it, you are!"

"I'm not touching it!"

"You want me to apply the ointment?"

"Please, I would get Fran to do it, but I couldn't handle that accusing stare."

"So you would have me use my bare hands?"

"If you could do it without touching me it would be better."

"Fine then, you do it."

"What?"

"You do it; I'd rather not touch you there anyway."

"If you make me do it, I'll never do it, better you help."

Basch anxiously paced on the spot, "I will kill you if you breathe a word of this to anyone!" pointing an accusing finger at Balthier to emphasise the point.

"Wouldn't dream of it," holding his hands up in surrender fashion.

Basch tore off his gloves, his stomach tightening at the thought of touching his friend so intimately. He scooped out some of the ointment.

"Aren't you going to warm it up first?"

Basch grumbled, as he warmed the ointment in his hands, "I _really_ hate you right now, Balthier." Basch smoother the ointment over the rash, averting his eyes and squeezing them tight. The sighs of relief from Balthier did not help Basch in the slightest, "Do you have to do that?"

"Sorry, old habits."

The both of them were refusing to look at each other, but with doing that, Basch noticed that they were not alone, Ashe had been watching from the En Suite door, grinning like the Cheshire Cat.

"Oh don't mind me," she said to Basch, "I always wondered if anything was happening between you two." She giggled.

Balthier sat up, "This is not what it looks like!" he cried reaching for his slacks.

"So _My_ very handsome Judge Magister was not just rubbing his hands all over your…," she grinned.

Basch was standing next to the bed, wiping his hands on a rag to remove the excess ointment, "he had an allergic reaction to an experimental potion," Basch explained.

"Did it also render his hands paralysed?" Ashe teased, her face hurting from smiling so much.

"Ashe I beg you," Balthier pleaded, "don't say anything about this. I have been humiliated enough with …" he could not bring himself to finish that sentence.

"Alright," she said finally, "will you still be coming to the function tonight?"

"I will try," he looked up at Basch, "I will dance with your lovely Bride-to-be but you will forgive me if I withhold a dance from you."

"I'm glad your sense of humour hasn't been damaged," Basch responded, genially. He handed the tub to Balthier, "You will probably get it under your arms too, just apply as soon as it begins to itch."

"Thank you Doc," the pirate grinned, swaggering out of the room, "I meant what I said about that dance Ashe."

* * *

Ophelia leaned back on her pilot chair, sinking her teeth into a ripe, crisp apple, happy to be returning home. She had pushed the craft to it's limits, she missed her bed, the pilot's seat being very uncomfortable had left her with a sore back.

With her feet planted on the dash, she stared out over the cloudless, desert sky, however, the relaxation she craved did not come, the shimmering sky was now hovering ominously over the Estersand, "Oh no," she threw the apple over her shoulder and began to radio Rabanastre, "Rabanastre, this is the Bacchus, do you read me?"

A severely distorted reply; "Th … aster … eat yo … sage" heavy static overwhelmed the transmission; the signal had been blocked.

"Rabanastre! An unidentified craft is hovering over the Estersand, assumed dangerous!" Ophelia cried into the receiver.

The shimmering sky began to glow, a subtle blue, hardly distinguishable against the blue of the sky; the blood drained from her face as she realised, it fired upon her.

The Bacchus dissolved into the desert sky, no trace was ever found.

* * *

"Johan," the wraith-like Wolfram approached the large blond man, "We have just destroyed a small craft. I believe it sent a message to Rabanastre before we fired."

"Let us move away from the most royal city," he replied, "With haste, take us up."

Wolfram nodded, and motioned for the helmsman to follow the order. "Carla was careless this morning."

"I know," Johan, responded calmly, "give her thirty lashes … as a warning."

"Yes sir," he turned to walk away, "If I may speak freely sir?"

"You may."

"You did decide to argue with her in the tavern of Balfonheim port, why did you do that?"

"I wanted a drink there, she and I had things to discuss," he sighed, "Bad timing on my part."

"One more thing sir," Wolfram held his breath, silently praying he would not offend his leader, "My wife."

"What about her?"

"Will we rescue her from the Dalmascans? When the second phase of the plane is put into action?"

"She is still doing her part," Johan informed him, "She still has a part to play in the grand scheme, be patient."

* * *

Working on Chapters 9, 10 & 11, check out Fall of the Republic :)


	8. Chapter 8: Run to Paradise

I hope this has been worth the wait

* * *

Chapter 8: Run to Paradise.

That afternoon, Balthier sat with General Tal and Basch, informing them of what he had learned from Ilsa.

"A stratospheric ship?" Tal asked in disbelief.

"Indeed," Balthier confirmed, "The _Strahl _will have a difficult time reaching it, but I believe she is up to the task, if only we could find the blasted thing!"

"Ophelia mentioned something of 'shimmering sky'," the Judge Magister commented, "Didn't the prisoner say something about heat detection?"

"So it maybe cloaked," Tal commented, "But if the ship distorts the sky around it, it could make it easier to find."

"There is still the issue of reaching it," Balthier interjected, "The _Strahl _might reach it, but what of back up, we don't know how big this thing is."

"What I don't understand," Basch added, "Is why are they trying to destroy every county in the world in the name of a land that has not been independent for twenty years?"

"They do not have spies in Archades, that's for sure," Larsa spoke up, entering the dimly lit room, "I have been constructing a new bill for the senate to liberate not only Landis, but Nebradia and Balfonheim."

"I was not aware of this my Lord," Basch said, "Liberating a vast area of the Empire is a daring move; it won't make you popular in the Senate. Why did you not tell me?"

"The Landis liberation bill was meant to be a wedding gift," The young lord blushed, "You have spent a lot of time there when you are not on duty, as did your late brother. It seemed right to do so."

"I don't know what to say," Basch was dumb struck.

"Don't say anything; I haven't pulled it off yet," the boy Emperor shrugged.

"Perhaps if they did know," Balthier added, "The Children of Landis would cease hostilities."

"Unlikely," the General explained, "terrorist groups have a habit of demanding more, once they achieve their original objectives; when in actual fact, it's the acts of violence, destruction and anarchy are their ultimate goals."

"Tal's right, we must find a way to put them out of business for good," the Judge stated, determined to stick to his word. "If they only wished to liberate the former Republic, they would only attack Archades."

"I can instruct Draklor to focus on the technology we need, but I can't promise when it will be available," Larsa explained, "I'm sure our friend Al-cid can find information on the craft we are searching for."

"The Rozzarian Prince is in Bhujerba on his honeymoon," Tal informed Larsa. "I doubt he would cut it short for us."

"You're spying on Al-Cid on his honeymoon?" Larsa questioned, shocked at the revelation.

"No," Tal continued, "He sent her Majesty a postcard. His new bride loves the shopping of the exotic floating isle. The Countess must be quite happy with the bottomless pockets of the house Margrace."

Larsa laughed with relief, "Oh good, Balthier, would you be able to handle the task of delivering the message to Al-cid?"

"I will leave first thing tomorrow," Balthier nodded, "and before I forget," he pulled the recording Vaan had made and slid it across the table; "I doubt its content will give you any warm and fuzzy sentimentality."

Basch held it up to his ear, the familiar words of his father's tongue truly did not give him any comfort; it gave the opposite, "_Wolfram __Adlersflügel_? I know that name," he said, puzzled, "I wish I could remember."

"Adlersflügel is Ilsa's name," the pirate informed him, "perhaps that is where you heard it."

"Perhaps," he leaned back, running his leather-clad hand through his hair. "This is going to puzzle me to no end."

"Basch," Tal called, looking at the clock, "Don't you have a party to host?"

Basch looked up at the same clock, "So I do, I had best get a move on."

"We all should, General? I believe you know that Fran hates it when you're late," Balthier added, rising from his seat. The men went their separate ways.

* * *

Basch finished lacing his parade boots and adjusted his gold sash, "How do I look?" he asked Ashe, who was still finding a dress to wear.

"If you wore that the other night, I wouldn't have bothered with eating," She hungrily looked him up and down.

"So; good?" He asked jovially, combing his beard.

Ashe laughed, "Careful _Gabranth_." She walked over in just her underwear, tight fitting blood red corset lingerie with matching silk stockings.

Basch's jaw dropped at the sight of his Queen, her breasts pushed together like a ripe peach. "Ashe, you look beautiful."

"I will be wearing something over this," she wrapped her arms around his waist, "You smell good."

"It's cologne that Larsa gave me, I'm glad you like it."

"I do," she said, nuzzling into his chest, "I have an idea, let's cancel tonight and make love until the sun comes up.

"I would love to," Basch said into her hair, breathing in the floral scent, "but we have to go through with this evening that _you_ planned, then we can make love until the sun comes up; as long as it's in an airship on the way to my home."

"Promise?"

"I promise."

Ashe gave a mischievous giggle, kissing him ardently, her leg rubbing up his.

"My love, you must dress, we are expected down stairs soon," Basch begged, holding her by the shoulders.

"I know," she grumbled, nibbling his bottom lip, "But I'd rather stay up here."

He wanted to also, his natural reaction to her touch screamed for him to do as she says; however, his mind told him to do what he must. "My Lady, please, put on a dress so we may dance together tonight."

Ashe sighed, "Alright," pouting at him, fluttering her lashes for added affect. She walked over to the extensive wardrobe to continue searching for a garment for the evening, "I wish I hadn't given my ladies-in-waiting the night off!"

Basch leaned against the doorframe to the massive robe, watching Ashe riffle through the contents. "May I suggest the red number, on the far wall?"

"What?" she looked around to the dress Basch was pointing too, "I was looking for that, why is it over there?" her puzzled expression was missed by Basch as he moved towards the dress.

He lifted it off its rack, the satin gown matched her underwear exactly, the embroidered desert roses over the skirt in delicate gold thread made him smile. "This is what you should wear, Ashelia," he said, turning to her, "a desert rose for my desert rose."

"Daddy use to say that to me," Ashe stepped into the dress, allowing Basch to lace it up at the back, "Only he would give me actual desert roses."

"He would always make me pick them for him," The former Knight reminisced, "I always tried to picture your face as you accepted it."

"If you behave yourself, I might show you tonight," Ashe grinned, slipping into a pair of matching heals, elevating her height to Basch's nose. "I hope our children will have your height," she sighed, looking up into his eyes.

"Planning ahead already?" he asked, "a little keen to further your line."

Ashe blushed, "can you blame me? You're perfect breading stock."

Basch chuckled, "Come," he beckoned, hooking his elbow for her, "your guests await."

* * *

Tal's full dress uniform felt a little snug across the shoulders, again.

"You've been working out," Fran stated, sliding her hands across his broad frame.

"I do, everyday," he informed her as he tested the stretch of the fabric, "I should manage tonight, but I will need to replace it soon."

"Does that mean I can tear it off you after tonight?" Fran said playfully, clawing at his chest.

"Only if you clean it up," he grinned, "it is back to business as usual in the morning." Tal's eyes graced Fran's tantalising frame, "you look beautiful."

Her gold and pink chiffon, form-fitting gown danced with the air currents that flowed through the room. "You like it," she reached for his hand, "I hoped you would."

Tal kissed her fingertips, "Come, we are late."

* * *

The Grand Hall in the centre of the Palace, would rival the largest ballrooms of the Archadian Imperial Palace. Dalmasca's aristocracy and other dignitaries filed in, lining the great space; waiting for their Queen to arrive. Penelo stood near the entrance, alone; Vaan had not returned home to prepare for the evening, he had disappeared.

"Alone this evening?" Larsa asked her as he approached with a glass of sparkling wine.

"Apparently so," Penelo sighed, "I wanted tonight to be special for us, now it feels like I wasted my time."

"I wouldn't say that," the boy Emperor commented shyly.

Penelo blushed, "Do you know where Vaan went?"

"Sorry, I haven't seen him since yesterday."

"I'm worried, Larsa. He's never missed anything like this before," Penelo declared, wringing her hands together nervously.

Balthier entered the hall, dressed uncharacteristically in black.

"Let me guess, you're in mourning," Larsa asked dryly.

"Not at all my young Lord," he raked his fingers through his hair, "I wanted to wear something different."

"Balthier, have you seen Vaan?" Penelo asked, her eyes begging for a yes.

"Sorry my dear," the pirate responded, "I haven't seen him since we got back from Balfonheim."

She sighed heavily.

"I'm sure he'll turn up eventually," Balthier assured her; "he's probably forgotten about tonight and is safely drinking his way into a stupor at the Sandsea."

* * *

Ashe and Basch walked arm in arm towards the Grand hall. As they passed one of the many palace gardens, the late season blooms still open in the quickly fading light. "Wait here," Basch left Ashe's side, entering the Adenium display. Ashe watched him search the many flowers until settling on one she could not see very well from her prospect. He returned with a pentagonal red blossom, "A desert rose," he announced, attaching the floral offering to her bodice.

The Queen was astonished, "it's beautiful," a tear escaped her eye, "oh great."

Basch caught it, "I wished to complete your apparel."

"I almost ruined my make-up," she feigned distress, "you are too good to me."

"No I'm not," he winked, kissing her hand, "I'm sure you father would have wanted you to wear it tonight also."

"I know he would," she smiled, slipping her arm in his again as they continued to walk towards the hall, Ashe glowing with pride at her soon-to-be husband.

* * *

Vaan had walked all afternoon through the Westersand, sword in hand, looking for the _Zombie Wolf_. The sun was now setting and the nocturnal fiends began to emerge from their daytime resting places. The night creatures were larger than those of the day were, and more frightening. "I should have stayed home," Vaan said to himself, breaking the eerie silence. The lack of moonlight only made it worse.

Out of the shadows, the cold dead eyes of the mark watched the unsuspecting thief. Its teeth dripped with venom as it edged closer to Vaan, who still assumed he was alone.

"I should have brought someone with me," he thought aloud, "Penelo's gonna kill me."

The _Zombie Wolf_ stepped closer; the stealthy beast could almost taste the foolish hume's flesh. However, the undead wolf made its one and only mistake, stepping close to an unstable pile of rocks, causing them to collapse. The pebbles rumbled, alerting Vaan to the presence of something. He shot around to the location of the noise; the dim light of the stars made it difficult to see the creature that made the sound, the faint silhouette of the _Zombie Wolf_.

Vaan froze, it was much larger than the description; it was huge. The foul stench of it breath choking Vaan, his eyes watering.

The wolf's eyes locked with his, _you are going to die if you don't do anything soon! _Vaan raised his sword and shield, preparing for the beast's attack.

"What are you waiting for you fell beast!" He screamed at it, boosting his courage for battle. It leaped at him, releasing an unnatural cry. He parried the attack, knocking the wolf to the ground. Vaan did not waste any time, he jumped onto its chest and plunged his sword into its throat. The bloodless Zombie Wolf thrashed around, its claws raking Vaan's chest, shredding his skin and grinding against the bone. "Son of a bitch!" he cried, falling against the corps of the mark, clutching his chest.

Now panicking, he pulled a potion out, splashing it over his near fatal wound. A searing pain erupted in the flesh as it began to knit back together, he shrieked in agony. As the pain began to subside, Vaan inspected his chest, the _Zombie Wolf_ had left its mark, five claw shaped gouges across his once flawless chest. His body covered with a large amount of blood; Vaan's head spun and passed out.

* * *

Ingra sat by the window, knitting her nephew a new sweater. "Knit one, pearl two," she uttered to herself, reading the pattern as she worked the two large wooden needles.

"Aunty Ingra?" B.J. entered the parlour, "Is Ophelia back yet? Is Dad coming tomorrow?"

"I haven't heard anything from Ophelia," the mature woman looked up at the large old grandfather clock, "She should be back soon, maybe she was held up in Rabanastre, I am sure his lordship will be back in time."

The boy shifted uneasily, "When will that be?"

She chuckled, "If I knew that, I'd tell you." She placed her project down, "Come over here."

B.J. did as he was told, approaching her reluctantly.

She pulled out a ready-made maroon sweater, and held it up, "What do you think?"

The boy wrinkled his nose, "Why is it red?"

Ingra laughed, "Because I ran out of purple, and it's not red, it's maroon."

"I wanted blue," he grumbled, frowning.

"Cheer up, love," she hugged him, "this isn't the only one I'm making you, and I just wanted to see you in a colour _other_ than blue."

"Kestra thinks it matches my eyes," B.J. sulked.

"I'm sure she's right …"

"Aunty Ingra, are they coming?" Valdar called racing into the room with her twin in tow.

"I'm not sure, Ophelia hasn't returned yet," Ingra felt the strain of lack of information, "I am sure she will return soon, it's not like her to be late."

* * *

"Do I look alright?" Ashe turned towards Basch.

"You are beautiful," he replied warmly, "You need to relax, it's only the formalities of diplomacy; you should be quite accustomed to these soirees by now."

"I am glad I will have you at my side," she admitted, "I am still a child in their eyes. They critique every action and there are a large number of them who still mistrust Archadia, I expect a few of them to recognise you."

"Then you should be grateful that you have final say," he gave her hand a loving squeeze, "and if at any time you feel uncomfortable, we'll leave. You are Queen after all, nobody will question you."

Her hands were sweating, her stomach twitched uneasily, "Okay," she swallowed hard, "I think I'm ready."

The two large wooden doors with the trumpet blast; the customary welcome the reigning monarch, everything became automated, the introductions, the greeting of the guests and the official announcement of the up-coming wedding just blurred into the background. Ashe wished to retreat into Basch's arms, the one place in all of Ivalice that she felt safe.

Basch was the beaming host; his reassuring smile gave Ashe strength to soldier on.

"Interesting choice of gown, your highness," Balthier's velvety tone, hummed into her ear, "the scarlet woman."

"I am sure that is more wishful thinking on your part," the Queen replied demurely.

"I remember one particularly enjoyable night in the Paramina Rift," he gave a naughty grin; "I thought you would wake the whole camp. Put any professional to shame."

"Don't you dare tell Basch!" she commanded in a low voice, resisting the urge to slap him.

"Relax _love bunny_," he teased, "I'm not going to ruin your night, that wouldn't be very gentlemanly of me, would it."

"No it wouldn't," she folded her arms, "And don't call me _love bunny_ ever again."

"Yes your highness," he slyly smiled. Tal arrived with Fran clinging to his arm, "Ah! There she is, I will take my leave," he said with a bow and walked towards the General and his elegant partner.

"Care to dance?" Basch asked, reaching for her hand.

"I'd love to," Ashe rested her hand on his shoulder as the music began.

"I have been waiting all night for this."

* * *

"Can you see it?" Kytes asked Filo, who glided above with a spotlight.

"I see it, but someone beat us to it," she announced, "Looks like Vaan did it." She moved closer to the scene, "Oh no." She raced towards Vaan, unconscious against the mark's corps.

"What is it?" Kytes cried, "Something happened?" he raced to keep up.

Filo landed next to their mentor, his breath shallow. "You came after it by your self?" she asked his lifeless form, "why?"

Kytes caught up, his jaw dropping, "Is he alive?"

"Of cause he is, he's breathing," Filo snapped back, checking his wound. "He's put a potion on it, but it doesn't seem to be healing well."

"Poison?" Kytes asked, pushing the pouting skin, "or disease?"

"Give him a remedy and an X-potion," Filo instructed him, sitting Vaan upright, "that should cure him."

Kytes nodded, pouring the tinctures down their friend's throat. They held their breast as his eyes slowly opened.

"What are you guys doing here?" Vaan asked, touching the now scared skin of his chest.

"We came out to hunt the _Zombie Wolf_, but you beat us to it," Filo explained, "why didn't you ask us to go with you?"

"I had other things on my mind," he said, standing uneasily on his feet, "You gonna take the tail as the prise? I'll split the reward with you."

"Nah, it's yours," Kytes assured him, "let's get back to Rabanastre."

* * *

The floor swirled with the rainbow of ball gowns, the music lively and cheerful. Ashe's earlier anxiety faded as she, with Basch; lead the dancers around the Grand Hall. The Judge Magister refused to dance with another; he could not tear himself away from his angelic Queen. She had not stopped smiling up at him since the music begun playing. The way her hand sat delicately in his, the curve of her waist in the other; he was in heaven.

"Have you seen Balthier this evening?" he asked his enchanting partner.

"Earlier," she replied, "He went off to speak to Fran and General Tal. Why?"

"I was thinking about asking him to fly us to my home."

"Okay," she said more awkwardly than she intended.

"Is something wrong?" Basch's happiness gave way to concern.

"No," her brief frown betraying her, "can we not take the Ultima?"

"The Ultima is quick, but not quick enough, we need to travel a third of the distance of Ivalice itself."

"The Strahl can't do that," she informed him.

"It can now," he smiled, "And providing we leave by midnight, we will arrive at our destination by dawn." He spied the Pirate standing next to a distressed Penelo and an equally distraught Larsa. "Something's wrong."

Ashe turned to see Penelo with red eyes and frantically pacing quickly between the young Emperor and the pirate. "Where's Vaan?" she asked Basch as they approached them.

"I don't know."

"Oh Ashe!" the normally perky blond sobbed, "He's not at the Sandsea, he's not at home!"

"I'm sure he's alright," she tried to reassure her; "You know how he gets."

"That's what worries me," she dabbed her eyes with a handkerchief, "if he's upset or anything he does stupid things!"

* * *

Filo had managed to carry Vaan back on her board, Kytes ran beside them with the trophy Vaan had procured from the mark. The streets were unusually crowded for that time of night. "Why is everyone out so late?" Filo asked no-one in particular.

"Shit!" Vaan cried, "The Ball, Penelo really is going to kill me!"

"Ball?" She enquired, "For Larsa?"

"No," he cringed, "Ashe is marrying Basch, and the Ball was to officially announce it …ow!" Filo hit him hard. "What was that for?"

"You went on a hunt while Penelo was waiting for you to take her?" She chastised him; "You jerk!"

"That was nasty Vaan," Kytes added.

"I'm taking you directly to the Palace," Filo informed him, "I'm taking you right up to Penelo and you can explain to her why you are such an idiot!"

"Wouldn't she be back at the flat?" Kytes asked.

"No," Vaan enlightened him, "She would have gone anyway to support Ashe." Vaan sighed, knowing he was not going to like this.

The two Guards at the main entrance recognised Vaan, "Have another fight with Penelo?" one joked, stepping aside to let them through.

"Not yet," he said as the trio passed.

"He forgot," the other guard giggled.

Vaan jumped off Filo's board, determined to walk to the Grand Hall, regardless of the amount of pain he was in.

"Vaan? Are you alright?" Penelo shrieked as she saw him entered the Hall, "What happened?" her fingers tracing his newly healed wounds.

"I'm sorry Pen," he prepared himself for a verbal lashing; "I went on a hunt, for the _Zombie Wolf_."

"Alone?" she demanded her answer. Ashe and the others came over to see if Vaan was all right.

"We were with him," Filo lied, "Wouldn't let him go after a rank VII mark on his own."

"Rank VII!" Balthier whistled, "Quite irresponsible of you to take two children out on a deadly hunt like that."

"We're not kids!" Filo protested.

Balthier waved her off.

"I'm just glad you're alright," Penelo sighed, throwing her arms around him, "you had me worried sick, don't ever do that to me again!"

"Balthier?" Basch called him away from the emotional scene, "I need to ask a favour."

"Name it," he replied, once he stood by the Judge Magister's side.

"Will you fly Ashe and I to Landis tonight?"

"Ashe is not going anywhere with out me," Tal cut in, "I am her sworn protector when she leaves the Palace grounds."

"Cool! We're going on a trip?" Filo asked, "Vaan coming?"

"Me too!" Kytes added, jumping up and down excitedly.

"I'm not letting Vaan go on his own," Penelo ordered who ever was in charge, which nobody knew, not really.

"Where the Judge Magister goes, I must too," Larsa informed the Pirate.

"I haven't agreed yet," he objected, he could see the annoyance in Basch's eyes, clearly he did not wish for the extra company to his family home. "I'll do it."

"Thank you," he slapped him on the shoulder, "And please don't call Ashe _love bunny_ again, she doesn't like soppy pet names."

"You heard?" Balthier felt like a cad.

"Take it easy, old friend," he reassured him, "I've known about your past with Ashe since it happened. I don't hold it against you."

"Thanks," he conceded, "If you ever need back up …"

"Don't push it," he warned, "And, Balthier, we fly cloaked."

* * *

Balthier wondered how he could fit so many people on the _Strahl_, not including the small pack of moogles in the engine room. Basch paced nervously in the cockpit, "She's going to kill me," he fumbled with the care package Ophelia left him.

"Relax," Balthier chuckled, lounging back in the pilot's chair, "what is that?"

"I'm not sure; Ophelia bought it for me to give to B.J." Basch placed it on the seat next to him, "Aunty Ingra doesn't like surprises," he sat awkwardly beside the package.

"I think I'm going to love this Aunty of yours," The pirate laughed aloud, swinging his chair from side to side. "I never picked you to be afraid of a woman."

"Afraid?" Basch now laughed, "No, I'm petrified." His eyes drifted in the direction of the cabins towards back of the ship.

"I don't know what you have that I don't," Balthier remarked, his eyes following the Judge's gaze, "go to her Basch."

"I can't leave you alone," Basch explained, "Vaan's being tended to by Penelo, Filo, Kytes and Lord Larsa; Fran is entertaining the General and …"

"And Ashe is alone waiting for her Judge Magister to warm her bed tonight," The suave pirate completed his spiel, "Go romance _your_ Queen, Sir Knight, you waste your time with me."

How could he argue; Balthier was right, he could not stop thinking of her, they were only apart for less than half an hour, and he already missed her. With a knowing glance and an acknowledging smile, Basch retreated to his love.

"Well you sexy beast," Balthier cooed, rubbing the control panel, "let's stretch your legs." He pushed the throttle to maximum, "you know how I like it, you sublime piece of engineering."

* * *

Ashe heard the engines whine as the _Strahl's_ velocity increased, she placed her book on the bedside table, _where could he be?_

The door opened with a faint hiss, she did not need to turn to see who it was; she heard his sigh at the sight of her under the thick feather-filled coverings. "I thought you lost your way," she mused, turning her head to look at him. How handsome he looked in his dress uniform, so official and masculine, his very presence enticing her to move towards him.

"My apologies," he said with a bow, his hand over his heart, "I was distracted." He approached the bed, the same bed they shared three years ago, "Please forgive me."

Ashe reached for his hand, "Just get into bed," she insisted, batting her eyes alluringly at him.

How could he resist, beautiful blue eyes imploring him to join her, "It is cold in Landis this time of year," he pulled the quilt around her, "you should try to keep warm."

"I will," she traced her finger over the back of his hand, "if only you would hurry up." Ashe watched him undress and slipped in beside her. Basch crept his arm around her waist and begun nibbling at her neck, Ashe giggled as his tongue tickled her sensitive skin.

"I feel quite nostalgic," he mumbled into her collar, sending shivers down her spine. His hands roaming to her more delicate areas, "If I may," he teased her, his skilled touch enticing her to excitement.

"Oh, you may," she sighed, revelling in the acute attention, "You may all night if you wish."

He met her gentle moans with a loving kiss, stealing her voice as his tongue caressed hers with slow subtle circles. Basch was in no hurry, his lips lingering on hers in measured conviction.

Ashe quivered under his attention, paralysed from pleasure. She tried in vein to return the gesture, but her body mutinied, moving instinctually for Basch, his caress becoming more intimate. His kiss could no longer stifle her cries, _how did he do it?_ Her lips felt cold as he pulled away, "Basch," she whispered, her hands finally able to move, "Let me taste you," she implored him, her fingers walking down his torso, wrapping around his arousal, squeezing gently, "_please_," her sultry voice begging him for permission.

Her firm grip caused Basch to freeze, "I don't recall us doing _that,_ three years ago," he whimpered at her motion along his entire length, the confident caress triggering an involuntary grind of his hips.

"This isn't three years ago," Ashe, reminded him, her luscious lips finding their sizable mark.

"Why do you like doing it?" he asked, his breath shallow and heart racing.

Ashe's response was a squeeze of his hand, her thumb brushing his knuckles, lovingly.

"Ashe …" he moaned breathlessly, "I can't … You must stop … I beg you." His words spurred her on, invigorating his reaction. On the verge of his peak, she stopped. He cried out, instinctually; although he said he wanted her to stop, he really did not.

The Queen grinned mischievously, her eyes twinkling at her job well done, "don't you like it?"

Basch nearly laughed, she knew he liked it, but he had plans for the evening and clearly, so did Ashe. "Aye I like it," he finally replied, blushing.

"Then why stop it?" she playfully punished him, slapping his hand. "Aren't I good enough?"

_Uh-oh, trapped_, he thought, _no answer will satisfy her!_ Ashe's gaze became more serious, more agitated. "You are fabulous, angel," he spoke as concisely as he could, "more than good enough, too good; I almost cut our evening short."

Her expression softened, the corners of her mouth twitching into a smile, "Maybe I should be more careful." Ashe climbed onto him, straddling his hips, "you had better hold on, I'm feeling quite amorous." She slid down, taking him in.

He swallowed hard, "I'll try," Ashe grasped his hands, pushing them above his head. She moved avidly with him, her knees gripping his pelvis, her lips hovering above his. He tried to kiss her, but she pulled her head back, keeping her pouting lips just out of reach.

"You made me wait," she whispered in his ear, her hips trapping him at his threshold, "Now you will wait until I have what I desire."

He nodded, letting ride out her zenith with a heavenly chorus, before she allowed him his release.

As she lay in his arms, she found peace as her Majesty drifted into her dreams. Basch kissed her forehead, before switching off the light, "Goodnight Princess."

* * *

"I've lost them, sir," the boy explained, the fear of upsetting Johan evident in his voice.

"What do you mean lost them?" he asked tensely. "How could you loose them?" Johan's face becoming red with fury; his veins bulging on his forehead.

"I'm sorry," he whimpered, "but they vanished, they were there one minute and gone the next," he began to tremble, "I don't know what happened."

Johan's eyes narrowed on the boy; "Leave my sight … now. Before I change my mind about letting you live."

* * *

Sorry for the long time updating, fighting a cold


	9. Chapter 9: The Singing Hills

This took longer than I thought, my apologies for any boring bits

* * *

Chapter 9: The Singing Hills

Basch felt unusually chilly, his naked body quivered as he awoke. His eyes opened to see Ashe sound asleep; he tried to smile when another spasm from the cold took hold. He looked down to discover that Ashe had stolen the blankets sometime during the night, wrapping herself in a warm protective cocoon, leaving Basch to freeze.

Not wanting to wake his love, Basch slipped into a robe and left for a shower.

He took his time under the hot, steaming water; he knew that they must have been nearing his home, as he saw that the frost had begun collecting on the windows. The fragile little fern-like ice crystals grew slowly across the pane; Basch now realised how homesick he really was.

Turning off the shower and covering himself with his robe once more, he returned to his slumbering, cocooned sweetheart. He noticed that she had not moved, her eyes shifted beneath their lids and her soft snores muffled by her pillows. He wanted to touch her, to caress her, but he knew it would wake her and that was the last thing he wished to do. He dressed in his casual clothes, a simple loose fitting black shirt and black leather pants, and sat watching his love sleep.

"She really is a sight of loveliness when she sleeps," Balthier commented quietly from the door.

"I thought I locked that door," Basch responded, folding his arms, glowering at the pirate.

"My ship, I have a key for every room," he grinned.

Basch grumbled, "How soon until we arrive?"

"Any minute now," he turned to leave, "You might wish to wake her up, I've radioed your aunt, she's waiting with your children for us to arrive."

Basch thanked him and begun the unpleasant task of waking Ashe. It was a crime to wake her, but he knew if she missed their arrival at his home, she would kill him.

"Ashe," he whispered in her ear, laying a gentle kiss on her cheek, "We're almost there."

"Hhhmm?" she rolled onto her back, her eyes opening sleepily.

"Good morning, my love," he smiled affectionately, brushing his finger down her cheek.

"Good morning, Basch," she greeted him, stretching out of her comforter chrysalis, "I can't believe I'm in Landis."

"It is a lot colder than Dalmasca," he informed her, "You should dress appropriately."

She chuckled, letting the covers drop from her body as she stretched, "Afraid I will catch a cold?"

"I am," he stated, pulling the blanket back over her shoulders, "Wait there, I'll find you something warm to wear."

Ashe made herself comfortable, enjoying the view as Basch rummaged through the draws for something for her. The leather complimenting his physique the way Ashe liked it. "Do I get a pair of pants like that?"

He turned back to see her with a mischievous grin, her eyes scanning over his casual clothing as though she was removing it with her sight. "If you like," he responded, feeling content with the attention. "There is a great store in town that will make any outfit you wish, tailored just for you. I can take you there if you would like." He handed Ashe her underwear; not the most flattering of undergarments she ever wore, but she dressed in them as Basch handed her, a grey item of clothing.

"Oh this is … attractive," she joked, playfully, holding the drab, heavy garment.

"That's your coat," he informed her, "You have this to wear," Basch held up a colourful and graceful dress.

Ashe did not hesitate adorning herself with the embroidered silk gown, "This is beautiful," she twirled in front of the mirror, "Where did you get this?"

"I had it made for you," he leaned against the wall, putting his hands in his pockets, "Dalmasca's native garb is not suitable for the northern climate, unlike the cold of the Paramina Rift, Landis has very little mist, which means you feel the cold." The Strahl landed with a soft thump on the landing pad of Basch's home.

Balthier knocked on the door, "There is a rather attractive older woman surrounded by a bunch of blond kids calling for you, your honour."

The Queen froze, her heart fluttering, "your children?"

Basch smiled at her, "I believe _our_ family awaits."

* * *

Ingra stood with Kestra at her side, anticipating her nephew's greeting. "B.J.! Move back from there!"

"But he's here! Daddy made it!" the boy cried, jumping up and down. The hatch opened and Basch descended with Ashe on his arm. "Who's that?"

"I don't know, sweetie," Ingra replied, shooting Basch a questioning look.

"D'you think it could be the Queen?" Ulrike cried, watching the regal couple approach.

"Ooh I hope so!" Valdar squealed, her not hiding her excitement.

Kestra stepped forward, her eyes locking onto Ashe with both confusion and happiness.

"Kes?" Ashe asked, looking at the mute girl, letting Basch go, "Is that you?"

Kestra smiled and ran to the Queen, throwing her arms around her waist.

"I haven't seen you since our assault on Vayne nearly four years ago," Ashe cried, "Look at you! All grown up!"

"You know Kestra?" Basch asked, dumbfounded at this unexpected reaction.

Ashe clung to the young girl, kissing her blond hair, "She was one of the many orphans who helped the resistance during the Archadian occupation." She lifted Kestra into her arms, "This little girl here risked her life for Dalmasca many times, just like her father."

Ingra's eyes narrowed on the Queen, "You forced children into dangerous situations?"

"No," Ashe placed Kestra back on the ground and held her hand, "little Kes here gathered information but listening to Archadians while they talked, she wrote down what she heard and gave it to us."

Basch chuckled, "It must be in the genes."

"That's not fair!" Ulrike cried, "Kestra got to meet the Queen first!"

"You can be so stupid, Ulrike!" Valdar laughed, "They met before she came here!"

"Now girls, calm down," Basch stood between them, preventing the imminent fight, "I would hate for you to embarrass yourselves."

The others began to filter out of the Strahl, "How many did you bring?" Ingra asked, "I hope we have enough to feed everyone."

"I won't be staying long," Balthier said, kissing Ingra's hand, "I have business to attend to."

"Now that's a shame," the mature woman grinned, "I would very much like to dance with you later."

"Straight to the point! I like that; I suppose I could stay a little longer," he looked towards Basch, "If his honour will allow it."

"Oh my dear nephew wouldn't dare upset his dear Aunty Ingra," she smiled at the large blond man, struggling to keep the twins from tearing each other apart, "they're just like their dad and uncle those two."

"DADDY!!!" B.J. called, nearing tears.

Basch looked to his adopted son and noticed the gash on his cheek, "Penelo?" he called.

The dancer was helping Vaan down the gangway, "Yes Basch?" she replied, holding Vaan up.

"I need you to look at B.J.'s cheek," he yelled, finally reefing the twin girls apart.

Penelo nearly dropped Vaan as she rushed to the young boy's side, "I don't need help," B.J. grumbled at the mothering Penelo gave him, "I'm fine, it's already fixed." He slapped her hand away, but it was too late, the gifted healer had already made the potential scar vanish.

"Just as handsome as your father," she commented, ruffling his hair.

Tal and Fran kept back from the chaos, Filo, Larsa and Kytes rushed past the couple, knocking Fran off balance. Tal's quick reflexes caught her easily with one arm, "Kids," he stated dryly.

Fran beamed up at him, her amethyst eyes fluttering in gratitude, "My hero," she purred, lightly scratching his bicep, "Maybe you would like to take a …"

"Oh goodness gracious me! Fran?" Ingra cried, shuffling past the mob of greetings and conversations. "Good heavens, I haven't seen you in forty years!"

"Hello Ingra," Fran clung to Tal's arm, smiling warmly. "How are you?"

* * *

"Move us to Archadia," Johan ordered the helmsman, "With haste."

"Archadia?" Wolfram queried, "Why are we going there?"

The large man steepled his fingers at his lips, "I am meeting a very important young lady there, in a café."

The wraith-like man watched the imposing blond, "You're meeting a young woman? Moving on from Carla already?"

"Carla has not moved in her status," he explained, almost chuckling. "Eris, on the other hand, is important in our master plan."

"This master plan involves an Archadian girl and keeping my wife locked up in a Dalmascan dungeon?" Wolfram could not understand Johan's plans. He never explained his actions to anyone, yet they all believed in the cause, what ever that was now. "Sir, it would help if I knew what this was leading too."

"Careful Adlersflügel, or I'll deprive you of your existence," Johan threatened, "you know better then to question me."

"I'm sorry sir," Wolfram backed away with a bow, clasping at his pendant.

"I think we'll have some fun while we're here," Johan sneered, "dish out some long awaited justice."

* * *

Everyone finally moved inside, gravitating towards the large dining hall, which had not been used since Basch's father, Ulrich last entertained, a week before the invasion. Ingra retreated to the kitchen to prepare breakfast for the guests. They all settles at the long wooden dining table, B.J. jumped onto Basch's lap and he presented him with a colourful package, which he unwrapped quickly. "Thank you Daddy," he stared wide eyed at the wooden Chocobo toy, "I love it!" he swung his arms around Basch's neck. Ashe chuckled at the spectacle, her heart swelling at the paternal nature Basch possessed.

"I'm glad you like it," Basch felt his larynx being crushed by the five-year-old, "How about showing your sisters."

"Okay," he ran over to Ulrike and Valdar, who were sitting with Larsa as he spoke with Penelo.

"You like being a father don't you," Ashe commented, entwining her fingers with his.

"I always dreamed of having a large family," he sighed, smiling at the Queen.

"Me too," her response taking him by surprise, "Ever since I met you."

Basch needed to hold her close, he wanted to kiss her, but their breakfast had arrived.

"So what's t like ruling Archadia?" Valdar asked Larsa for the third time, resting her chin in the hand.

The Emperor sighed, "Not that fun," he answered finally, "I would much rather people treat me like a regular person."

The twins took that as an invitation, "Cool!" Ulrike exclaimed, "Wanna pick some wolfberries?"

The cold outside kept the party indoors, Larsa began warming up to the twins, their attempts to give Vaan some wolfberry juice failed when Penelo caught onto what they were doing, although, she did find it funny. Kytes and Filo took a liking to Kestra; she showed them her lute and began to play.

* * *

"I am glad you brought you friends, Basch," Ingra smiled, "Lady Ashe is more beautiful than you said."

Basch blushed, sitting by his aunt's side, "I had hoped that you would like her."

She chuckled, "you're going to marry her, aren't you." She sipped her tea, watch her nephew smile, "well?"

"Aye," he sighed happily, "I love her, but officially it's in the name of peace."

The older woman looked over to Ashe, who happily danced with B.J., Penelo and the twins to Kestra's lute. "She's good with kids," she commented, "A natural mother?" she became more serious, "Will the children be moving to Dalmasca with you? And what will happen to your family estate?"

"I hadn't thought about that," Basch began to worry, "I just assumed that we would travel between our two homes."

"Do you really think Dalmasca will be happy with their Queen spending half her time here?"

"My only wish is to make Ashe happy," he admitted, watching Ashe spin with B.J. in her arms, both giggling with joy.

Ingra grabbed his hand, "Come with me." She led him out of the hall, up the stairs to his parent's old room. It had not been lived in for years, yet it was immaculate, not one item out of place. Ingra opened a box on his mother's old dressing table; she retrieved a small item, hard to make out in the dim light. "Here, you will need this," she dropped a ring into his hand; the diamond was as blue as the ocean and the band a brilliant silver. "It's been in the family for generations, a gift from Hendrick to Elfreda, it's only right that it should grace the hand of another Queen."

Basch looked at the trinket, twirling it in his fingers. Slowly, anticipation began to grow within him.

"I trust you remember where to use that thing?"

"I do."

* * *

Zargabaath marched from the senate, those stuffy old men and women had not even noticed that the Emperor's representative had walked out on their bickering. He envied Gabranth, both of them, Larsa always favoured him … them, the Gabranth of then was loved by the late Emperor like a son, but he could never understand why. When he heard of Gabranth's death, he did weep, he was a friend and colleague; they had shared much together and there were times he wished his old friend still drew breath. Today was one of those times, the senators loved to take advantage of the Emperor's absence, they were worse than children.

His feet carried him from the building, away from the verbal sparring the senators felt necessary for daily life. They infuriated him. After a couple of blocks away from the Senate, Zargabaath pulled his helmet off, dropping it by his side with a clank. He looked up at the large red building, "You will be the death of me, my dear senators," he bitterly declared, lighting a cigarette to calm his aggression. The nicotine ebbed through his veins, a drug-induced tranquillity easing his stress. He looked back up to the senate, "I guess I'll try quitting once Lord Larsa returns, as you clearly wish me to remain a slave to these blasted things!" he flicked his butt towards the parliamentary structure, "Guess I'll be writing myself a ticket for that."

With a heavy sigh, he began to trudge back, but something stopped him, something made every hair on his body stand up on end. The air filled with pink and white noise, the sound reverberated in the Judge's head and there it was, a shimmering patch of sky directly above the Imperial Senate. The patch began to glow an unnatural blue and as fast as a lightening bolt, it enveloped the building, melting it into the surroundings.

Zargabaath froze, he could not believe his eyes; the Imperial Senate, the heart of the Empire, was gone.

* * *

Lunch was an authentic Landis feast, boiled meats in a stew, roasted game, fried vegetables and sweetbread dinner rolls, B.J.'s birthday cake was a delectable Bhujerban chocolate cake, light and fluffy covered with a marshmallow frosting. Everyone filled his or her bellies until bursting point. The younger members of the party began to doze off in front of the fireplace; even Ashe found it hard to stay awake, she rested her head on Basch's lap, who immediately began to stroke her hair.

Penelo had finally left Vaan alone, his wounds still bothering him, but he played it up for her. He moved towards Basch, he settled by the Judge's side. "Basch, I need to know something."

"What is it, Vaan?" he spoke low, so he would not wake anyone.

"If anyone were to visit the Capital to say, collect treasures for historical reasons, would you support it?" he tried to sound as casual as possible.

"I would say they were mad, the capital is now the lair of a ferocious wyrm, that could very well be an esper or worse," Basch kept calm, knowing what the young thief mean to do. "Anyway, the city is a vast tomb and monument to the republic, it would be desecration to invade it for looting purposes and as Judge Magister, I would be responsible to bring said persons to justice."

Vaan gulped, "And what would that be?"

"A stint in Nalbina," He said flatly.

"I thought all the prisoners in Nalbina had been released and the fort given back to Dalmasca," younger man protested, "you know, when the war finished?"

Basch leaned back on his elbow, looking up at Vaan, "Until the fort is fully repaired, Archadia is leasing it as a prison," he could see the young man's displeasure, "at least the prisoners now get a fair trial, and the conditions are much better than the last time either of us spent time there."

Vaan laughed, knowing that the treasures of the Landis Capital were out of reach, but if it was true that a wyrm resides there now, and if he tried it would mean a term in the depths of Nalbina. The treasures did not seem that appealing anymore.

* * *

The Magistrate was a buzz with activity; Zargabaath quickly readied his speech to the public. His hands shook the disbelief of what had occurred still not sinking in; Archadia had been caught off guard, as such, has left the Empire more vulnerable than it ever has before and will not likely recover from any time soon.

"Richter," Zargabaath called, marching towards the podium, "I want more judges on the streets and rally the fleets to patrol the skies of Archades, cancel all leave for the foreseeable future."

"Yes sir," Richter nodded, marching off to do as he was ordered.

Zargabaath's stomach churned as he stood at the plinth, facing a crowd bigger than any other he had ever faced; he cleared his throat, "Citizens of Archadia," so far so good. "This morning, at a quarter past nine, an unseen foe destroyed the Senate, with an unknown technology." The crowd murmured with caution, he waited for them to quieten back down, "All Senators and other Senate employees were lost, that totals to over two thousand casualties and climbing." The shuffle of the public contacting family with their personal communication devices worried him, he knew the numbers would climb once the list of working employees for the day became public, not to mention the tourists visiting the building, the number could double. "As a precaution, I am declaring marshal law throughout the Empire, on Emperor Larsa's behalf, for all your protection, a curfew of 10pm will also be enforces as of tonight, these will remain in place until a new Senate can be elected," he took a deep breath as the populous settled into an ominous silence, "Thank you for your time."

Without wasting any time, he returned to the council chamber of the Magisters. He met with Judge Magister Maar, she had been waiting there for Zargabaath for over an hour.

"Judge Maar," he greeted her, sitting next to her, "I must inform Lord Larsa personally, I need you to take charge while I'm gone."

"Do we have any idea who would do this?" She asked, the worry on her face hard to ignore, "We are in a period of peace, the first of its kind in the history of Ivalice. I don't think Rozzaria would turn so quickly or dramatically," Zargabaath chuckled. "What?"

"You are too innocent at times, Maar. It was not that long ago, every nation on Ivalice was at each others' throats," he raked his fingers through his hair, he had not realised how anxious he was until he felt the sweat slick his hair back. He sighed, "I must leave immediately; will you take charge?"

"I will," she nodded, "Any orders?"

"Don't overwork yourself," he said, standing up, "Delegate, it's your job."

He marched out to the hanger, leaving Archades in good hands; he climbed into a fighter and directing the craft to Rabanastre.

* * *

The sun had begun to set over the hills, the golden aurora making the autumn leaves glow and Balthier knew he had stayed too long and had to leave.

He began to slip away, he wanted to say good-bye to Basch and Ashe, but they were nowhere to be found, Fran and Tal were also MIA, the only one who would farewell him was Basch's lovely Aunt Ingra.

"I do wish you could stay," Ingra huffed, disappointed at the loss of the young pirate, "It's nice to have an attractive young gentleman around."

The pirate bowed, "Alas, I have to do this," he flashed his charming grin, "You have been a most agreeable hostess and I look forward to seeing you again."

"Careful, young man," she giggled as he kissed her hand, "I may take that the wrong way."

"Am I in competition with another am I?" he joked in a theatrical way, "Or are you afraid that your nephew will do something bad to me?"

"I'm not saying," she cocked her eyebrow at him, also playfully, "but you are wasting time, I am much too old for you and I doubt you have the type of experience I like."

She walked off towards the manor, leaving Balthier curious to her meaning, "Cheeky minx," he called after her.

"Fly swift and return safe, _sir_," she vanished into the structure. Balthier laughed and climbed the gangway.

The Strahl hummed into life and floated into the sky. "No Mistress Fran again, sir?" Nono asked, stretching from a nap.

"She's busy right now," Balthier answered him, "We are heading to Bhujerba and your taking the helm."

"Yes sir," the little moogle nodded, "Kupo!"

Balthier stepped aside for the small creature to take the pilot's chair with an all mighty leap. "Treat her well, Nono." The pirate retired for the first time in three days.

* * *

Tal giggled as Fran removed his boots, tickling his feet with her lips and tongue. They had escaped to a secluded, forested area some distance from the house and nestled on a soft mound of moss at the base of a large tree. The Viera took delight in depriving the General of his clothing, the chilly air not having any affect on his reaction, "Will you not joined me in this natural state?" he asked, watching her hands move gracefully over the more delicate appendages in firm, but gentle motion, as though caring for a baby animal.

"Be patient," she cooed, locking her eyes with his, "This is for you this evening and I wish to draw out every blissful pleasure from you …" she curled her lip coyly, "And feast on your ecstasy."

His leg twitched, "I wish to please you, as I have always done when we are together." He reached for her, removing her headgear and grabbing a fist full of her snow-white hair. "Please, disrobe for me?"

She drew him close with a few subtle gestures and allowed him to remove her clothing. With his newly naked love, luminescent in the evening hue, he pulled her down onto him, weightlessly gliding up and down.

"I could die right now," he groaned, holding her hips as she effortlessly moved.

"I don't want to think of that right now," she growled, pushing his hands away from her, "Don't ever talk of death around me!"

He had struck a nerve her mood began to change, "I'm sorry, Franny, please forgive me," he begged her, kissing her hands.

"No, I'm sorry," her demeanour softened, bowing her head in shame and sadness.

"Don't cry, Franny," he sat up, enveloping her in his arms, caressing her long hair as she trembled, resting her cheek against his. "Hush, love. What saddens you?"

"Nothing," she lied, averting her eyes so he would not detect.

"You cannot lie to me, Franny," he kissed her neck, "But if you do not wish to talk about it, I will not pressure you."

"Thank you, Tal," she tried to smile, but he just pulled her head down onto his shoulder.

"Don't talk," he whispered, squeezing her close, "don't talk."

* * *

No one had noticed their absence, at least they'd hoped so; Ashe had wrapped the heavy grey coat around herself as Basch clipped the fur lined cloak his father use to wear. The two of them went for a dusk walk around the grounds. "I could almost give Dalmasca up to live here with you and your wonderful family … Almost," Her cheerful grin warming Basch's heart.

"I wouldn't dream of depriving Dalmasca of her strong and wise Queen," he said, linking his arm with hers, "We fought so hard and risked much to let you give it up."

"I did say almost," she kissed his cheek as they continued to walk along the path.

The gardens were more of a wilderness, no set design as to where the multitude of plants grew, but that did not make it any less beautiful, it was like an enchanted forest. Ashe envied Basch's childhood, the picturesque scenery looked like the lands from her fairy tale books when she was young; her beloved would never have been bored.

Basch told her of youth, the spring where he would swim in the summer, the place where he experienced his first kiss, his first hunt with his father and brother; "My father planted all these trees," he continued as their path took them up onto a hill. The sea could be seen in the distance with the sun just touching the horizon, "All with the exception of this one." He dropped to his knee, gazing up to her, his face framed by the grey and tan fur of his cloak. "Ashelia, you once told me that you loved me the moment we met on your sixteenth birthday," She flushed as the understanding of what was occurring began to sink in. "I have a confession to make," he took a deep breath, "I felt the same way, I knew it was wrong, but you were so beautiful. From that moment, I didn't want anyone else, it broke my heart the day you married Rasler and to think I told him what to do that night …"

"Basch," she chuckled, her happiness overwhelming her, "You're babbling."

"Yes, I'm sorry," he looked away to compose, "the point is Ashe, my beautiful Queen, I love you and I wish to wake up, by your side until I die as your husband and you, my wife." Basch retrieved the ring his aunt had given him, "this has been in my family since we colonised Landis," he placed the unique ring on her finger. "We were to get married anyway, but with this, know that I offer more than my body, but every part of me, my heart and soul, know that I give you my eternal love."

Ashe could not contain herself, her tears of joy flowed like a river; she held his hand as he stood up. He kissed her passionately as the sun dipped into the sea.

* * *

This chapter was brought to you by Bundy and coke and a shit load of Cab-Sav :Þ


	10. Chapter 10: Demons of the Past

This Chapter is like one of those episodes with the flashbacks only I had to write them all from scratch, it also happens to be the longest chapter I've written, so I hope you appreciate my work ... _Appreciate! _:Þ

* * *

Chapter 10: Demons of the Past.

His bed never felt so good, but the pirate Balthier was tormented with dreams. His day at Basch home was interesting and his Aunt Ingra was fun. Nevertheless, his mind still fell back to Ashe.

_He walked towards her tent; he knew she would not be asleep, not yet. He heard the conversation she had with Vaan; they both sounded a little crazy, seeing the dead Prince Rasler, he was glad they weren't in Archades, she would have been locked up in one of those mental __**care**__ facilities, which did everything but care. He could hear her weeping inside, into the pillow if he was not mistaken. "Ashe?" he called quietly, not wanting to alert the others of his proximity to the solitary princess._

"_What do you want?" she snapped, trying to compose herself._

_Balthier's hand pulled back the flap of the tent; "You are in distress, I came to offer comfort." He expected her to refuse him, yell and scream for him to leave._

"_Thank you, Balthier," her words surprised him. She patted her cot beside her, "Come in and stay awhile."_

_He obeyed, the pirate could see why Basch could follow her words so easily now, authoritative and caring, a dangerous combination for a scallywag like himself, it could lead to the gallows if he was not careful. "Thank you Princess."_

_She chuckled at his show of respect, "I'm not your princess; I don't have that title right now,"_

_He liked the way that sounded, "Equal footing then?" he asked more than he said._

"_Educated rogues with no home and our family are each other," she finished his statement._

"_Exactly," he acknowledged her accuracy. "You should dry those tears; they are most unbecoming of royalty." He dabbed his handkerchief around her dazzling blue eyes, her lips puckered slightly from his attentions but fought the urge to kiss them. "All better."_

_Ashe gave a dry smile, a vein attempt to look strong, "Why are you here?"_

"_I needed to know you were alright," he said truthfully, "you keep seeing images of your deceased husband, and it can't be helping you." He placed his arm around her, "if you need to talk, I'm here."_

_She returned the gesture, resting her head on his shoulder, "It's been two years since a man has touched me," she said without warning._

_This shocked him, "Not even the turn coat, Vossler who stayed by your side?"_

"_No, he knew his place and was not going to over step the bounds," she drew her gaze to him, locking with his liquid amber eyes, "you have no such restriction."_

"_An invitation?" he asked mockingly, feigning shock, "I don't know if I'm that kind of man."_

"_Cut the Chocobo shit and kiss me!"_

Balthier's eyes flew open, his heart racing and his body dripped with cold sweat. He was alone, not only physically, but emotionally too.

* * *

Ingra loved seeing the house bustling with life, all the young people felt like family now, but finding rooms for them all was proving to be a problem.

The girls will have to bunk in their old room, with the young Filo and Kestra, Penelo can have a room to herself as can Lady Ashe, and Fran can share with the General. Kytes can share with B.J., Vaan can share with Larsa, and Basch can have his room.

The kindly older woman began to take the younger members off to bed, leaving the older ones to wait for Lady Ashe and Basch to return from their walk.

"Why are they out so late?" Penelo asked no on in particular.

"They are enjoying the extensive grounds," Fran reached for Tal's hand, "I suspect they will not be allowed to sleep together tonight."

"That's really old fashioned," Vaan scoffed, fighting a yawn, "Nothings gonna stop me from holding Penny tonight."

"Not while I'm there you're not," Larsa informed him in a less than imperial way.

"Awh what?" the thief was not pleased, "Where's Penelo sleeping, tonight?"

The blond giggled, "I get a room to my self," she dodged a playful swipe from Vaan, "so does Ashe."

"I think we'll retire for the night," Tal pulled Fran's hand to his lips.

"Why do they get to sleep together?" Vaan cried, watch the couple rising from their seat.

Fran grinned, "I believe Her Majesty and His Honour will be asking the same thing," they watched the happy couple enter through the door. They said their good nights and left.

Ingra came back down the stairs, "I think it's late and everyone should head to bed," she looked at Basch as she said this. She noticed the ring on Ashe's finger and smiled, "Good lad." Vaan, Penelo and Larsa made their way up the stairs, followed by Ingra, Ashe and Basch. "You can have this room my dear," Ingra opened the door to a room across from Basch's.

"Not that room," he said abruptly, "You know that room is off limits."

"Oh Basch, it's been over twenty years, I'm sure Meike won't mind," Ingra protested, not bothering to hide her annoyance.

"Ashe, you sleep with me in my room tonight," Basch ordered her; he was not acting his usual self.

"You're not sleeping together before you're married," Ingra was just as stern. Ashe suspected she had Basch's stubbornness; this could be a long evening.

"Fine, I'll sleep in there," with that Basch finished the conversation; Ingra was not happy with the out come.

"When will you let the poor girl go?" Ingra asked, "Just like your brother, why must you hold onto the past when your future is so bright?"

"This discussion is over, _Aunt_," he turned away from her towards Ashe, "I'm sorry my love, I will explain every thing to you in due course." He kissed her good night and disappeared into the forbidden room.

"Don't take it too personally, Lady Ashe," Ingra assured her, "Tragedy surrounds this family, and we all have our own way to deal with it."

* * *

Basch closed the door behind him, the bedroom. "Hello Meike," he whispered to the dark room. He sat fully clothed on the bed _she_ had used many times, including the night before her death.

A painting of the three of them, Basch, Noah and Meike hung on the wall, laughing at a long forgotten joke on a summer's day a lifetime ago.

"_Noah!" Meike screamed as Basch grasped her around the waist, hoisting her up onto his shoulder and ran, "Noah! Help!" her uncontrollable giggling infecting the twins._

_Noah gave chase, following his brother and Meike to the thermal spring at the foot of the hills, "Unhand her you fiend!" Noah called playfully, waving a stick like a sword above his head._

"_You're never gonna rescue me with that technique," she remarked as Basch flung her off his shoulder._

"_He'll never rescue you," Basch cried, picking up a stick to defend her, "you will be mine! Ha Ha!"_

_In mock battle, Basch and Noah swung their sticks at each other with exaggerated enthusiasm. "Un hand her, you …Cad!" _

_Basch feigned horror at the insult, "How dare you!" _

_Meike watched, laughing herself into hysterics, their theatrical fight becoming more absurd by the minute. Finally, Noah 'defeated' Basch who hammed up his 'death'._

"_Now my dear," Noah dropped his 'weapon' and approached her, "I believe a kiss is owed for your rescue, as reward for my heroics." He dropped to his knees before her as she sat on a log._

"_You'll get more than that, Noah," she wrapped her arms around his neck and sucked on his lip, her knees opening for him to move closer._

"_Hay!" Basch yelled, sitting up to find the two of them in a rather compromising position; "What about me?"_

"_You're gonna miss out if you stay over there," Meike giggled as Noah removed her bodice, tossing it aside._

_Noah chuckled, "Basch, grab her feet."_

"_What?" she squealed, fighting off the twins as they began to swing her over on of the pools of warm water. "Let me go!"_

"_Okay," Noah agreed, both he and Basch let go of her, she fell into the pool with a splash and a scream. The twins laughed and jumped in after her._

"_I swear I'm going to kill the both of you!" she cried, flicking her wet hair out of her eyes and glaring at them._

_The glare was short lived as Basch kissed her without warning, her defences torn down in an instant. "Allow us to make it up to you," Noah uttered in her ear, cupping her round, soft breast, pulling her back away from Basch's lips, so she floated on the water's surface. He now kissed her as Basch got to work on the rest of her garments, removing them at a slow pace. "I hope you can handle this."_

Basch laid back, the large spacious bed feeling so empty, guilt rose in his stomach, Ashe was just across the hall and he was thinking a girl who died before she was born.

_The cool autumn morning breeze tingled Basch's face as he watched his brother by his mother's side, his face distorted with anger and sadness. Their father had had words with Noah, what about Basch did not know. He, his father Ulrich and Meike in her full armour and weapons all readied for their long ride to the Capital._

_Noah would have joined them if he had not fought with their father the night before. Noah envied his brother, neither of them had ever been to the Capital before but this year was the year they had been looking forward to, they were now seventeen and old enough to work in the Senate as clerks. The brothers' had aspirations of following in their father's footsteps. They had graduated from the military academy only six week earlier in the city of Hahndorf, half a days journey south from Ronsenburg, but a disagreement between Noah and Ulrich erupted into a physical confrontation between father and son, leaving Noah a little worse for wear. _

_With his arm in a sling and nursing a black eye, Ulrich kissed his wife good-bye and mounted his Chocobo; "I expect you to be on your best behaviour Noah," he bellowed into the silent morning, "I hope your injuries heal well." He left with a haste that was unexpected._

_Noah leaned on his crutches saying his good-byes to Basch and Meike, both wore the same sad expressions as he did, "Bah, I'll be there next year, think of it as giving you both a chance to explore the locals without me to out do you," he grinned through swollen lips. "Write to me, I can do nothing else until this leg heals anyway, not that I will be interested in your action packed adventures in the Landian Senate."_

"_Why won't you tell me what you and dad fought about?" Basch asked quickly as he and Meike mounted their rides._

"_I'll tell you when your get back!" Noah called out as they turned to leave._

_Valdar placed a hand on her son's shoulder, "How would you like to spend the next few weeks in Archades?" she asked warmly._

"_See, Mum knows how to cheer you up," Basch grinned as the two of them kicked their Chocobos into a run to catch up with the Senator._

"_What did you two fight about?" Meike asked Ulrich boldly after a few hours of silence in the dark forest; her voice already falling back into the authority of the Valkyrie Guard._

"_You will be marrying Basch; Noah believed he should be the one to marry you," Ulrich explained calmly._

"_I believe I should be the one who determines who I should marry, Senator," She argued, "No offence to Basch, but I and I alone will determine if and when I will wed."_

_Ulrich shot her a disapproving glance, but his argument died in his throat as Archadian war ships roared overhead, towards the Capital, "What in blazes?" Ulrich mumbled._

"_Dad!" Basch called out as judges marched towards them, "What's going on?"_

_The senator could not respond, as the battle engulfed the trio. When the last soldier fell, Ulrich turned to Basch, "Son, take this," he handed him his Golden Axe, the one he never parted with since his famed fight with Keln Margrace, "You and Meike return to the estate and get your mother and brother out of there," Meike agreed, but Basch argued, "Do it! And get to Dalmasca, Malger will look after you until I get there."_

_Ulrich rode off, armed only with a sword; Basch never saw his father again._

_Night quickly approached; the township they grew up in glowed with hell-fire. In silent agreement to two ran into what could very well be their deaths without hesitation._

_Most of the village was destroyed and the villagers massacred, including Uncle Günter and Meike's sister. All this done by five judges, who arrogantly attacked the young warriors, Meike felling the first easily with her lethal double blade. The two battled bravely until a judge armed with a spear impaled Meike from behind, the pointed tip erupting from her chest; Basch decapitated him before dropping to pick his love up. "Meike, talk to me!"_

_She coughed, spraying blood into his face, "I'm done, get to Noah!"_

"_No," Basch shook his head, "you can't die; I won't let you!"_

"_Damnit Basch! Don't argue with me!" she coughed, "I love you but I'm not recovering from this, If you see Noah before I do, Tell him I wouldn't have married either of you, because I love the both of you and I can't decide between you. You will promise."_

_Basch nodded, his eyes welling with tears, "Don't go," he wept, but it was too late, she died in his arms. _

* * *

Ashe entered Basch's bedroom, his scent permeated every inch of the room, portraits of Noah, who she guessed was his parents and an attractive and athletic red headed girl with an unusual set of armour and holding two very familiar blades. _Meike Hjördís Bloodbeard 671 ~ 687_, Ashe read on the name plaque, _Painted by Basch Fon Ronsenburg 707 O.V._

Basch had created each of the paintings, with loving detail and care. She noticed in the corner, by the window, another painting on an easel with a cloth over it, with her curiosity stirred, she uncovered it; her own eyes stared back at her, her half-painted portrait in her wedding dress was larger than the other pictures in the room. She almost cried when she read the plaque, _What can never be_.

"You'll be renaming that painting my brave knight."

_Ashe was all of six years old when she first moved out of the nursery. She was a big girl now, having her own room where her nanny would not sleep near her any more. It was bigger than she expected, large silken curtains obscuring the view east and the balcony. _

"_What's out here?" she asked, throwing the curtains back and exploring the area._

"_Princess!" her nanny shrieked, racing after her, "You must be careful; it's a long way down!"_

_Not caring what her nanny had to say, she gazed, wide eyed, out over the grounds below her room; the barracks for the Order. "What's that down there?"_

"_That's the training grounds for your father's army, princess," the nanny explained, trying to usher the young girl back into her room._

"_Can I go down there?" she asked, looking over her shoulder to continue looking at a young knight who stood out from the others, "Why does he look different?"_

_The nanny threw her arms down, "Now you may not go down there and I have no idea who you speak of, now my royal __**Darling**__, you need to ready yourself for tonight, we have guests from the kingdom of Nebradia."_

"_Why would I want to meet people from Nebradia?" she pouted, crossing her arms defiantly._

"_We hope to form an alliance with them, your highness," the young woman clarified, "One day, we hope, you will marry one of the Nebradian Princes."_

"_Yuck! I don't want to do that!" Ashe pulled a disgusted face, sticking her tongue out as though tasting something disagreeable._

"_You have no choice, Princess," she said as she gathered Ashe's clothing together._

"_Why?"_

"_Because that is how peace is kept," she brought over a pretty pink party dress, complete with fabric flowers and ribbons._

_Ashe groaned, "Do I have to wear that?"_

"_It is a beautiful dress," the young woman said with a hint of patronisation, "It looks wonderful on you."_

_Ashe walked back out to the balcony, leaning against the rail, peering between the supports, "Who is that blond guy down there? Will he be there tonight?"_

_The nanny directed Ashe back in, "How about the blue one? You like blue?"_

Ashe chuckled at the frivolous memory, hugging one of the pillows on Basch's bed.

_Every day, the blond knight sparred with his comrades in the barracks, Ashe could not make out his face from her height, but she could tell that he was better than the others were. He would swing his weapon around, hitting it against his opponents, before knocking them down. He could do that with any weapon he used, sometimes it was an axe, or a sword, or a hammer; he was a good shot with the bow, the way the others would cheer when he loosed a volley of arrows perfectly at the target. Ashe sighed, "Who are you?"_

_He would look up at her and wave occasionally, before returning to his training. She could not explain why her stomach felt funny when this faceless soldier did this._

* * *

Basch rolled onto his side, the darkness stripping away his defences.

_Basch hated not being at the barracks, this forced leave will drive him insane. "Barkeep," he called to the gentle old Seeq on the other side of the bar, "Another Ale please."_

"_Coming right up sir," the jolly old man replied, pouring a frothy mug for the Lieutenant, "fifteen gil, sir."_

_Basch dropped the coins into his hand, and began to drink. He wished he had time and money to buy some civilian clothes, he did not feel comfortable in his armour at the tavern._

"_A knight of the Order of Dalmasca should be able to handle a stronger beverage than ale," a bitingly sharp tongue of a woman chided from further down the bar, "or can't Dalmascans handle their liquor?"_

_Basch looked up to see a woman in the attire of not only the Nebradian guard, but of the Order of the Golden Feather; the royal guardians. The polished white armour, highlighted with gold scrollwork over the revealing garb. Her silvery-white hair pulled tight into a topknot. "I cannot vouch for the others of my adopted nation, but I personally find the local liquor to be too sweet."_

_The woman laughed, her lyrical voice singing out, "It is made from honey!" _

_Basch downed his drink, "so, why is a high ranking knight of Nebradia here in Bhujerba alone?"_

"_Probably for the same reason a low ranking knight of Dalmasca is," she retorted coyly._

"_And what would that be?" he asked, equally coy._

"_Forced leave, why else would a soldier holiday in their armour," her sly grin joined with a cheeky glint in her eye._

"_So you are here to drown your leave away so you may forget the unpleasant experience of nothing to do?" he enquired, ordering another beverage._

"_Much more efficiently than you, it appears," she took a swig from the bottle of madhu._

"_I happen to like ale," he retaliated, defensively._

"_And I tire of this conversation," she turned away from him, "I hope you are much better company on the battle field."_

"_Why don't you find out?" he challenged her, "Join me on a hunt this afternoon, the Amphisbaena it's a rank VI, so it should be a bit of fun."_

"_Are you asking me out on a date?" she asked demurely, fluttering her eyelashes at him._

"_Don't expect dinner out of this," he cut her down, downing another brew._

"_I may not want it."_

"_So," Basch conversed with the woman as they explored the Lhusu mines, "If we are to be killing a beast together, would it be alright if I knew your name?"_

_She smiled at him, "I am General Illandra Rottnest."_

"_General?" he was surprised, she looked younger than he did and had already achieved the heights of success in the military. _

"_Is there a problem with my rank?" she questioned him, her blade flashing dangerously in the dim light._

"_Not at all," he slashed at a vampyr, "A woman as young as you achieving such a grand rank so soon," he whistled playfully, "You must be something special."_

"_You speak with a quicksilver tongue, sir," she grinned, "what is your name so when I tell the Order of Dalmasca that they lost one of their soldiers in a silly little hunt, I will identify you accurately."_

"_Lieutenant Basch Fon Ronsenburg," he told her, waiting for some form of teasing to his inferior rank._

"_The surviving son of the Hero of Landis? I'm honoured," her humbled response throwing Basch off, he was geared up for more verbal sparring, but her respect for his late father quenched the fire he felt burning inside him._

_They had slain their mark; Basch dealing the fatal blow, their reward being a pristine ribbon which Basch offered to Illandra, "It would look far better on you than it would on me."_

"_You fought bravely today, Sir Basch, where are you staying?" her question innocent._

"_I have not decided yet," He admitted, "I was planning to drink myself into unconsciousness."_

"_No your not," she told him, "You're staying at the Cloudborne, with me."_

_After a week of being blindfolded, bound, gagged, poked, prodded, tortured and humiliated in the most exquisite way, Basch stood in the aerodrome with Illandra. "I had fun, Fon Ronsenburg," she said in the same authoritative tone she used all week, "I hope we can do it again sometime." Basch could only grin at her; the announcement for her flight was called. "I must go," she kissed him, in an unexpected way; "I will miss your company, Basch." She left without waiting for his good-bye._

_Once she was out of earshot, he uttered his response, "Not too soon, I hope." He rubbed his wrists unconsciously and limped off to his own flight. _

* * *

Ashe thought about Basch's reluctance to let go of the past, her own past also hard to let go.

_"Are you sure we won't be caught?" Ashe whispered anxiously; Rasler's cheeky grin was her only reply. "Our fathers' will kill us!" they hid behind a large shrub in one of the many palace gardens._

_The young prince pulled her closer, "does it really matter? We are to be married one day and you are so beautiful."_

_Damn him! He always knew what to say. Ashe's heart pounded in her chest as he came closer._

_"Can I touch you?" He asked, sounding as nervous as her. Ashe nodded shyly. Rasler brought his hand up and touched her breast._

_She pushed him back, "I didn't mean there!" she shrieked. _

_"I'm sorry," he begged, his face scarlet and not meeting her eyes._

_Ashe giggled, "It was nice," she admitted, "It would be nicer if you actually kissed me when you do that again." Ashe could not believe she had just said that._

_Rasler smiled, and leaned in for another take for their first kiss, his hand finding its way back to her breast. Their lips met, Rasler's arm clumsily snaking around her waist, their tongues wrestling in sloppy competition._

_Their 'perfect' moment was brought to a sudden end when the towering and imposing figures of two of Dalmasca's finest pulled the branch back to see what all the moaning was about._

_"Lady Ashe, Lord Rasler," Major Tal acknowledged to two young royals, Rasler's hand still squeezing the princess's breast. The young prince was frozen to the spot, his eyes filled with dread as the two knights glared at him._

_"Lord Rasler," Captain Vossler chided, "Will you please unhand our princess."_

_The poor boy now horrified at the fact his own fear kept his hand exactly where it should not have been. "I ..." was all he could utter._

_"I will escort his lordship back to his quarters," Tal volunteered, "My Lord, by my side if you may."_

_The frightened boy obeyed without question, giving Ashe one last glance before being ushered away._

_"Lady Ashe," Vossler now addressed her, "I must confess; I did not expect you to be out so late and in such a compromising situation." His eyes filled with concern, "He didn't force you into this, did he?"_

_"What?" She panicked, "No!"_

_"You didn't ..." the knight now blushed, "do anything else did you?"_

_"I don't know what you mean, Vossler," she replied innocently. _

_The Captain sighed with relief; "Let's get you back to your room before you are missed, young lady."_

_They walked silently back to the princess's room, her nanny fast asleep by the door, her knitting hanging from her lap. Careful not wake her, Vossler guided her into her room. "Captain?" She asked quietly, the tall knight turning to face her again, "What did you mean when you asked if anything else 'happened'?"_

_He blushed again, "If you are unaware of what I eluded to, then it is for the best," His voice sounding weak._

_"Can you explain it to me?" Ashe's naivety was not helping the situation._

_"It is not my responsibility to explain such things to you, your highness," he replied curtly, "I would advise that you get your sleep, good night, Princess."_

Ashe giggled; she could still feel her first kiss like it was yesterday.

* * *

Basch still could not sleep, yet still his memories flooded into his mind.

"_Captain?" a young boy called from the side of the training grounds, "Captain Basch? Captain Vossler requests your presence in the office."_

_Basch bowed to his opponent and placed his mace on the near-by bench, "Is it important?"_

"_I'm just relaying the message, sir," the boy left, back to his station._

_The newly promoted Captain made his way to Vossler, who stood next to a woman he had not seen in weeks, General Illandra Rottnest, but she was in civilian clothes, and her hair neatly braided._

"_Ah, Basch!" Vossler chuckled, "You never told me you met the __**former**__ General Rottnest when you were in Bhujerba!"_

"_Former?" Basch was perplexed, "Illandra, you resigned?"_

_She turned to face him, a subtly bulging belly graced her once trim figure; "I did, for personal reasons."_

"_I'll leave the two of you to talk," Vossler made his way to the parade ground._

"_Are you … Is it …" he could not finish his questions._

_She placed his hand on her belly, "yes," she smiled._

_Guilt and shame; Basch felt these emotions growing inside him, what would his parents think? _

"_Say something, Basch," she demanded, her smile fading rapidly._

_But he could not, she had made it clear that their week of indulgence in Bhujerba was to stay in Bhujerba; Basch never expected this at all. He finally found his voice, "I can not let my actions dishonour you, Illandra."_

"_I believe __**I **__was the one who initiated that week," she scoffed, trying to put him at ease, "you had a gag in your mouth for most of it and had little chance taking control."_

"_Still, I wish to make an honest woman of you," he held her hand, "By weeks end … if you accept … you will be my wife."_

_Illandra swayed on the spot, her hormones playing havoc with her senses, Basch steadied her, helping her to a near by chair, "we hardly know each other," she argued, "my wish was only to inform you of your progeny, so you could be apart of their life, if you wanted to."_

"_Give me a chance," he begged, kissing her hand, "to prove that I can both loving father and husband."_

_She agreed and at weeks end, with Vossler as witness, Basch took Illandra as his wife in a private ceremony late at night, the couple were happier than either of them would admit to._

_Only seven short months later, Illandra went into labour. Vossler had been visiting when her waters broke. He offered to retrieve the midwife and hastily left for his older sister, Kamala. _

_They arrived quickly; Kamala instantly assessed the situation. Basch held Illandra's hand awaiting the midwife's diagnosis. "Vossler, could you stay with the Lady Illandra?" she said suddenly, "I need to speak privately with Basch."_

_Illandra shot a confused glance at her husband, "It's alright, pet," he reassured her as he left the room to speak with Kamala._

"_I'm just going to get straight to the point," she said seriously, "your wife will not survive this birth; the child is too large for her hips."_

"_Can you not remove the child through an incision through her abdomen?" he asked._

"_This is not Archades, Basch. Even if it were, I doubt it would make much difference," she sighed, "Go to your wife and say your good-byes, Captain, it will be your last day with her."_

_Basch held his wife's hand, she could see his distress and she knew the news was not good. "I'm dying aren't I?" she asked._

_He did not answer her, he could not answer her; the pain that grew in his heart stole his voice._

"_By the Gods!" she embraced her husband and wept. Neither of them spoke as the delivery continued, Basch trembled at the thought of the woman he had begun to love would so cruelly be torn away. Like his home fourteen years earlier. "Promise me you will care for our child, Basch," Illandra cried, "Promise!"_

_As the child was ripped from the former General's stomach, Basch held her, "She's beautiful, just like her mother."_

_Illandra held on, fighting death with every ounce of her being, "Can I hold her?" Kamala laid the infant in her mother's arms, she stared at the squirming child, "It's all been worth it," she told her newborn daughter, "I just wish I could be there for you as you grow up, however, you are fortunate to have such an honourable man as your father." _

_Basch held his wife long after she passed away and continued until her body had grown cold._

"_Basch," Vossler crouched by his side, "Come on, we must ready her body for burial. Go to your daughter, she still needs a name."_

_Numb, Basch listen to his friend, taking his child in his arms, "Kestra," he whispered to her, nuzzling his nose to hers and let his woe surface fully._

Basch wiped away his tears, "I will not allow that to happen to you, Ashe; never."

* * *

Ashe awoke, startled by her surroundings, before she remembered where she was. She pulled a pillow to her face and breathed in deeply, "I wish you were with me tonight."

"_Happy Birthday, My Little Desert Rose," Raminas greeted his daughter, hugging her, "I feel old; sixteen already." _

_Ashe smiled brightly, "My nanny believes it," she laughed, "I think she's been counting down the days."_

"_I dare say she has," the king chuckled, "you weren't the most agreeable child."_

"_That, I believe, is a matter of opinion," She shot back, "My tutors believed me to be the model student."_

"_You're their only student," Raminas reclined in his throne, "Now, before we get ahead of ourselves, we must discuss your protection." The king pulled the silken rope and an array of Knights marched in, joining the guards of the throne room. "I will choose the best for you, my dear."_

_Ashe looked over the Knights, her eyes connecting with a face she had longed to see up close since she was a small child; the blond knight. He broke his focus, momentarily following her gaze; her heart leapt into her throat and her legs began to loose their stance._

"_These are my best men," Raminas explained, "I will assign two for your personal protection and the others will be stationed around the Palace. Archades is rattling their sabres and I fear for your safety, so the two will follow your every move."_

"_Fair enough," she agreed, "I want him." She pointed to the blond knight._

"_Basch?" Raminas argued, "you were apart of the throne room guard, why are you standing with the others?"_

"_I was late this morning, Sire," he replied directly, "I asked another to fill in for me. I apologise for my tardiness."_

_The king grumbled, "I'm sorry my dear, he already has a position in this Palace, You must be content with Vossler and …"_

"_I will not back down father," she sternly argued, "I promise you that."_

"_I would be quite happy to protect the Princess," Basch offered, "Providing she is willing to listen to my advice."_

"_A mutiny from my best soldier and my own daughter," the king threw up his arms in defeat, "Alright, Vossler and Basch, I here by appoint you as her majesty's protectors. I am so sorry."_

* * *

Basch sat up, looking toward the door, she was only a few metres away and yet Ashe felt further away than ever before.

_The last eighteen months had been interesting, Ashe pushed in every way to see what she could get away with, but Basch stood firm. Now that the princess would be getting married soon, he felt a sense of relief and sadness. The girl was half his age; she had fire in her veins and reminded him of a love long dead, but the Princess was not for the picking._

"_Captain Basch," A polite and calm question from the, soon to be, prince consort for the Lady Ashe, "I need your help."_

_Basch put down his boot and polish, "You have my full attention, Lord Rasler, What may I help you with?"_

_The young Prince took a deep breath, "I am afraid of my wedding night," he said finally._

_Basch frowned, "You were never taught about reproduction?" _

"_I know what to do," the prince hastily replied, "But I also know that it can be pleasurable for Ashe."_

"_You wish to know about foreplay," Basch felt his stomach tighten, his mind flooding with images of Ashe writhing with pleasure, naked and moaning from his touch. He quickly squashed these thoughts._

"_I figured you were the best," the young lord praised him, "You managed to steal Illandra Rottnest away from Nebradia, so I figured you had to be talented."_

_The Captain blushed, "It was more complicated than that, but I …uh …thank you for your compliment." Basch explained everything he knew, some techniques causing Rasler to gasp yet all recorded mentally for the special date. "I hope that can help you," Basch finished, after an hour or so of suggestions and descriptions._

_Rasler, bright red in the face, thanked the captain and returned to his room; Basch picked up his boot again and continued polishing._

_

* * *

_

Ashe slipped out her bedroom door, Basch was sound asleep in the hall. She paused for a moment, looking down at the slumbering Knight, kissing his cheek, "I'm sorry, Basch," she whispered, "But I need to do this."

_Basch's eyes flew open, grasping her wrist in a flash, "What are you doing Princess?"_

"_Basch," she said calmly, "You must let me go."_

_He hesitated, and then complied, "You must return to your room, Ashe."_

"_I can't Basch, I must do this," She did not want to explain it in detail._

"_You are on your way to see Lord Rasler?" _

"_Yes, I need to ensure the succession of Raithwall's line."_

"_That is what your wedding night is for, Ashe. Return to your room."_

"_It's going to hurt, Basch! I will not soil my perfect night with unwanted agony!" she slapped her hand over her mouth, distressed of what Basch's reaction will be._

"_Go," he rested back against the wall, "Before I change my mind."_

"_Thank you, Basch," she gave him another kiss on his cheek and disappeared down the hall._

* * *

Basch rolled onto his back, sleep still eluding him.

_The hangover from the celebration thankfully missed him, the princess however, had never consumed alcohol before and she was now paying for it._

"_Princess you must get up, it is your wedding day," the handmaiden begged, "You must rise!"_

"_Can I be of assistance?" Basch asked, he had been standing silently through the last hour of attempts to wake the princess._

"_Be my guest," the handmaiden stepped back, "If she is not up soon, she will miss her wedding."_

_The Knight kneeled by her side, "Ashe, you must get up." She did not move, so Basch stood up and picked her up, slinging her over his shoulder, "I said up!" he boomed._

_Ashe screamed from shock as she was carried through to her En Suite and dumped her, fully clothed into the bath that had been waiting for her, "Basch? What is the meaning of this?"_

"_You are late for your own wedding, Ashe!" He was not happy, "If you do not get down there soon, you will cause a diplomatic incident!" Basch left, turning to the handmaiden, "She's all yours."_

He could not take it any longer, Basch rose from his bed, and opened the door; in a few short steps, he would be at her door.

_

* * *

_

Basch's method of waking her did not keep her angry for long, but remorse for making him act in such an extreme way, she decided that she would apologise to him when she sees him next.

_The procession with her new husband wound its way through the streets. "I hope this is over soon," Rasler told his bride, "I have been planning something very special for you, tonight."_

"_I too have something special planned for you," Ashe tried hard to hold back her excitement, keeping her serine composure for the crowds that waved and threw confetti. She looked down towards the Palace, and saw General Tal with Basch and Vossler discussing something important. Basch's face drained of its colour before her two loyal guardians disappeared into the masses._

The door opened and Ashe's heart leapt as she saw Basch enter, the glow of the fire enhancing his features. He brought his finger to his lips, indicating her to be silent; she nods, waiting for his next move. He glided to her side; Ashe was sitting upright as he joined her. Without a sound, he kissed her lovingly, cupping her head in his hand. Ashe gently stroked his face, his beard tickling her fingertips.

Basch leaned over her, softly pushing her back against the mountain of pillows. Ashe surrendered all control, letting Basch take the lead as he unbuttoned the nightshirt she borrowed from his draw. Without removing his lips from hers, he discarded her coverings and tore his own off, buttons flying off in all direction. His toned body felt hotter than ever before, she desperately pulled him closer, begging his caress.

He broke their intimate embrace, lifting her further onto the bed where he proceeded with a series of love-bites down her neck, trailing down her body. A gasp escaped her lips as he indulged her feminine oyster, the sensuality amplified by his attentiveness. Ashe fought the urge to cry out, she was not use to staying quiet, but something told her that if she made a sound, it would all stop.

Ashe bit her tongue as her hips thrashed about, but Basch's strong arm held her down, she felt him chuckle against her before he stopped. "Basch …" he silenced her with a hungered kiss and with primal desire, he took her hard. Her moans resonated from her throat invigorated his thrusts, dragging her to the very edge of rapture.

Fran heard gasps and groans from the neighbouring room. She laughed quietly to herself, pulling Tal's slumbering form closer. A part of her envied Ashe, not about marrying Basch, but the knowledge she would not live forever without her love, the two of them could raise a family and grow old together, something Fran could never have.

* * *

Okay, there it is, nearly 7,000 words and done in record time with the help of Clio, Erato, Melpomene and Thalia of whom without their inspiration I would still be stuck on the first paragraph.


	11. Chapter 11: Love, Life and Reality

Not as big as other chapters, I know, but I hope it's not too short.

* * *

Chapter Eleven: Love, Life and Reality.

Ashe lay awake, warmly wrapped in her love's arms as he slept soundly. Never before had she felt such rapture. Basch was insatiable, his body giving into exhaustion after hours of ravenous lovemaking, and she suspected that more was to come. Even in his slumber, his body screamed out his desire for her, with a subtle stroke of his fingers or a faint spasm of his hips.

She watched him, the small gruff moans that escaped his lips kept Ashe alert for more of his attentions. She wanted him to wake, to continue what he started a few hours earlier; in her had awoken a yearning that only he could satisfy. Whether it was his size, his ability or the way his eyes never had anything other than love in them for her. She knew that she needed him, the man she loved from afar, the man she loved who had spent nearly every agonising moment of her teen years (With the exception of her two cruel years on the run) tantalisingly close without the satisfaction of touching him and now the man who lay naked at her side for now and forever.

"Ashe," he breathed in a gruff tone, instantly rolling onto his side, awake. She offered up no resistance as he crawled above her, kissing her and worshiping her with his tongue and lips. Again, she tried her hardest to remain quiet, but every now and again, a small gasp would slip from her and was forcibly yet affectionately silenced with his gentle kiss.

Again and again, the two came together in heated passion until; all too soon, the sun rose, ending their night of amorous exaltation. Basch retreated from her bed, quickly dressing in the clothing he arrived in, not bothering about the buttons he had lost and left without a word.

Ashe was left breathless and naked on the bed, still hungering for her lover to return; but the sound of the house coming alive put her hopes back where they belonged. She too, dressed quickly, noting that the day will be bright, sunny and perfect.

* * *

Basch greeted his fiancé with a warm and loving kiss, as though they had been apart for weeks not minutes, "Good morning; my beloved. Sleep well?"

Ashe nearly smiled at the performance he put on for his aunt's benefit, "I did, thank you." He escorted her to her position at the grand wooden table, aiding her in every way he could.

"Basch," Aunty Ingra called, "I believe you have some news for us." The entire table turned to the now blushing Judge.

Again, his silent motions answered his Aunt's enquiry; lifting Ashe's jewelled hand for all to see, the children not hiding their excitement. "Can I call you mummy?" B.J. asked innocently.

The Queen laughed, "Yes you can," she answered; the boy jumping from his chair, racing around the table and hurtled himself into her arms.

"You are the best birthday present ever!" he cried, hugging her excitedly, "Can I have a baby brother?"

Basch could not believe his ears, his astonishment at the boy's brazen request evident on his face. "I don't think it works that way."

"I'll try," Ashe smiled, reaching for Basch's hand, "if that's okay with you."

"Please, daddy," B.J.'s eyes appealed to his adopted father, "I'll be real good, I promise!"

"And what if you get a baby sister, when the time comes?" the patriarch asked.

"Dad, I think you and our new mum can have more than one baby," the young boy said in a matter of fact way, as though informing Basch that is was possible.

"You're too young to know anything about that."

"You own a Chocobo ranch," Ashe giggled, "I'm sure he knows it all, is it not breeding season?"

"Aye it is and thank you for reminding me of my duties here, _Love_," Basch, grumbled playfully. "B.J. eat your breakfast, you'll be helping me move Vossler into the yard with rest of the flock."

"You named your bull Chocobo Vossler?" Ashe asked, half amused.

"The children named him Vossler," Basch explained, "I would tell them stories of our adventures through Ivalice so they would go to bed."

Ashe smiled at him, before turning to eat her breakfast.

* * *

Fran looked on, watching the joyous display with saddened eyes. "What troubles you?" Tal asked the Viera.

"Nothing," she sighed, forcing a smile, "They're so happy."

"They are," Tal grinned, "yet something is bothering you." He reached to hold her hand, "What is it?"

"Not now," she said, her lip quivering briefly before returning to her calm stature.

"You wish to feel what they feel," Tal uttered quietly into her ear.

"Yes," she replied, equally as quiet.

"You can," his words seducing her, "If you'll let me." She knew that look, the same look he had all those years ago.

"Tal, can we talk about this later?" Fran asked, giving him a reassuring glance, "Now is not the time to talk about this, it's their day, let them have it."

The General sighed, "All right, but I'm holding you to it." He kissed her hand, "I can promise you."

* * *

After breakfast, everyone went his or her separate ways; Ashe watched Basch leave with B.J. to their duties for the Chocobos. The young boy jumped into Basch's arms, who lifted the child onto his shoulders and pretended to be a Chocobo for him. The Queen grinned at the sight, she had learned more about Basch in the last few days than she had all her life.

She was drawn out of her musings by Kestra's gentle tapping on her shoulder. Ashe turned to the young mute girl, "Hello Kes," she greeted her, still smiling. The girl grabbed Ashe's hand and tugged, begging her to follow. She did so, accompanying Kestra out into the wooded garden she and Basch wandered through the previous night.

The girl stopped, she looked distressed, "I had a nightmare about you!" she blurted out unexpectedly.

"Kes!" Ashe responded with shock, "You talked!"

"He's after you!" Kestra cried, hugging the Queen tightly around her waist, sobbing.

"What? Who?" Ashe stroked the little girl's hair, "And when did you start talking?"

"The monster," she wept, "He wants you for something bad!"

"I don't understand," The Queen crouched down, "What's this all about?"

"I had a dream that you were taken away," Kestra choked, her sad eyes did not blink as Ashe tried to calm her.

"Is that all," Ashe sighed, pulling the girl into a hug, "you had me worried, there."

"But it was so real!" she argued, "so scary!"

"Dreams are like that, sweetie," Ashe explained, "I had similar dreams about your father."

"Didn't you get scared?"

"More than you can imagine," they stood there for a moment before moving on.

"What should I call you?" Kestra asked plainly.

"Anything you like," the Queen replied, "As long as it's nothing too cheeky."

The girl giggled, "Okay mum," she leaned her head on Ashe's arm, "can you not tell anyone that I spoke; I just want to be left alone."

"Alright. Your secret's safe with me."

* * *

Vossler, the Bull Chocobo stomped his feet on the straw covered floor; he called loudly as Basch and B.J. entered the old barn. "You what day it is, don't you boy!" B.J. called, laughing.

Basch approached the large Chocobo, his feathers ruffled with excitement, "easy there, boy," he stroked the birds neck, calming him so Basch could loop he rope around his neck.

Larsa peeked around the door of the barn; he never witnessed such mundane activities before. He knew they happened but never seen it with his own eyes. He watched Basch lead the massive bird out of his pen, with B.J. rushing ahead to open the doors. The Emperor retreated behind a near by tree, as they exited the barn in a small procession, Larsa followed.

Vossler pulled against the tether as they neared the field where the female flock browsed. B.J. again rushed ahead to open the gate. Basch lost his grip on the rope and the Bull Chocobo rushed into the paddock. Larsa laughed, alerting them to his presence.

"I was wondering when you would join us, My Lord," Basch smirked, helping him to his feet.

"I'm sorry," Larsa mumbled, "I wasn't sure I was welcome."

"You're always welcome," B.J. said forthrightly, "you're our Emperor; you can do anything you wish."

Larsa smiled at the naivety of the boy; "I still abide by the same courtesy that you live by."

"His Lordship is right, however," Basch leaned against the fence post, "he should have known that I see him as family and shouldn't be shy about wanting to join in."

Larsa became uncomfortable, kicking a clump of grass as the three of them walked back to the house.

"There's trouble," Basch chuckled, watching the twins with Kytes and Filo make their way to the town.

* * *

Carla looked at the picture Johan handed her, "She's the one you need?" the brunette asked, frowning at the beautiful image. Johan removed his shirt, his hairy torso slick with perspiration from his workout earlier.

"She is crucial to the plan," the large blond grinned, "Not jealous are we?" his sarcasm cutting her more than she let on. She peeled off her clothing to please him; he nodded his approval.

"No," she shot back, "a little old fashioned isn't it?"

"The classics never go wrong," he patted the bed, "come now; show me your loyalty." Carla slid into the bed with him and he did not wait to begin his entertainment.

"I don't think it's a good idea," she insisted, not participating in Johan's plans for the morning, "I think it will back fire."

"Nonsense," he mumbled from her thighs, "it will be fine."

"What has the Judge Magister done that has got you so riled?" she asked, still not reacting to his efforts.

"He is a traitor to the Republic, running to the Empire when things got tough," his snarl reverberating through Carla's hips, "I want him to suffer as much as our countrymen did."

"Why not kill him and be done with it," she asked, "then we can have that family you promised me." She gave him a hopeful gaze.

"I have spent years planning this; I will have satisfaction in knowing that turn coat will beg for his death."

* * *

The small hamlet of Ronsenburg had adapted to Archadian rule quite well. Those who survived rebuilt in the classic Landian style with many Archadian indulgences; cafés, boutique shoes, clothing and lingerie, gourmet delicatessens, bakeries and restaurants and a bed and breakfast with quaint country charm.

Ulrike and Valdar spent most of their days in town after school with their friends at the café; today they would introduce their new friends Filo and Kytes to the pleasures of Ronsenburg. Autumn meant that the swimming hole was too cold, the thermal spring was off limits so everyone had fun sipping exotic beverages and going to the junior dances held at the beginning of every month.

The group met with a couple of boys from the local school, "Hello Alwin, Heinz," Ulrike hailed the two teens, who looked happy to see the girls, "We want you to meet some friends of ours," they all sat around a cramped little table, "this is Filo and Kytes; they're from Rabanastre."

"You must be cold," Heinz chuckled, "I bet you don't get much ice and snow in Dalmasca."

"No," Kytes agreed, "luckily enough."

Filo jumped in, "but we've been all over Ivalice with Vaan and Penelo," she grinned proudly, "We're Sky Pirates, good Sky Pirates, we help people as well as find treasure."

"Wow!" Alwin cried, "You must be rich!"

"Not that rich," Kytes shrugged, "maintaining a sky ship is expensive, we do it for the adventure more than anything else."

"I'm going to buy a new scarf," Valdar informed the group, "a nice woollen one with matching gloves for the beginning of school." She strolled off to one of the clothing stores along the main road.

"What does she do with the old ones?" Heinz asked, watching the girl walk away.

"She gives them to Kestra, who tosses them in her wardrobe," Ulrike waved off the question as though it were nothing.

"Doesn't Kestra like you?" Filo asked, but the Archadian interceptor that flew low over the town distracted her attention. "What's that doing here?"

The youths looked up, equally curious as to why it would be there. "We should probably get back," Kytes said to Filo.

She agreed and they both ran back to the estate, leaving Ulrike, Alwin and Heinz at the café to wait for Valdar.

* * *

Zargabaath fought to keep his eyes open, after learning that Larsa was no longer in Rabanastre gave him a sense of relief, if he found it hard to find the Emperor, then whoever destroyed the Senate would not find him. He was relieved his flight was nearly at an end, the landing pad at Basch's home never looked so beautiful. The aircraft landed silently, however the occupants of the house were already standing by, awaiting his reason for the visit.

"To what do we owe the pleasure?" Ingra asked, as the hatch opened, "You look terrible, is everything alright?" She offered the Judge her arm to help steady his decent.

"Thank you Mrs Falk," Zargabaath uttered as she guided him into the kitchen for a warm drink.

"Now, now," Ingra berated him, "We've known each other for years; I think you can call me Ingra by now." She handed him a hot cup of tea and some biscuits.

"Habit of a life time, ma'am," his words sounded pained, "I couldn't …"

Basch rushed into the kitchen, "Is all well?" he demanded, leaning on the table, "has something happened?"

"Alas," Zargabaath bowed his head, "The senate is no more."

"What do you mean no more, has there a revolt?"

"No revolt, no coup," he explained calmly, "the Senate dissolved into the air, destroyed by some unseen force."

The colour drained from Basch's face, "An unseen force," he repeated as he lowered himself into a chair, "When did this happen?"

"Yesterday," the older Judge informed him, "around midday, I was fortunate not to be in the Senate when the attack happened."

Larsa entered, also pale; it was obvious he had been listening at the door, "How is the city?"

"Under martial law, Judge Magister Maar is overseeing the peacekeeping in Archades," Zargabaath sighed, feeling his fatigue more so since arriving, "I will resume once I return to the Capital. I would advise that his lordship remain here and live as a commoner until we have secured the Empire."

"What of the Wedding?" Larsa asked, "Will that have to be postponed?"

Basch wished to know this too, he could not bare the thought of waiting longer, now that he and Ashe could finally be together.

"I don't see a need for that," the Judge said reassuringly, "I think it would be a good idea to move it forward, to boost moral in the Empire. Judge Magister?"

"Yes," Basch answered, attempting not to smile, it would be inappropriate considering the circumstances.

"You appeared to recognise the attack; do you know something of the invisible assailants?"

Basch and Larsa filled Zargabaath in about the _Children of Landis_; the senior Judge absorbed every scrap of information, "We are expecting Balthier to return from Bhujerba with more information about the Rozzarian ship they use. With any luck we will get what we need to find it so we can destroy it."

"I hope you're right Gabranth," Zargabaath yawned, "Mrs Falk …"

"Ingra," she corrected him, crossing her arms."

"I require a place to sleep before I return to Archades with Judge Magister Gabranth to brief the Magistrate." The Judge stretched his back, yawning again.

"Gerhold," the Elderly woman chastised, "You can't take Basch away from the children; he only arrived yesterday."

"He will return after a day," he gave her a subtly grin, "I trust you and your companions will protect the young Lord until his return."

"You know I will," the woman softened, "I'll find you something to fill your belly and prepare a bed for you to rest."

* * *

"Should we see what that's about?" Vaan asked his blond companion, refering to the arrival of the Archadian ship. He and Penelo sat in a small garden room with a pond populated with tiny silver fish at the rear of the manor.

"It's Archadian business," Penelo commented, "I bet you a thousand gil."

Vaan scratched at his scared chest, "So why aren't you with Larsa?" his question sounding less friendly than he intended.

"Don't scratch at it!" she cried, her scowl causing him to shrink back, "And I'm here with you because you need me right now."

"Who says I need you?" he spat, sulking like a small child, "You always spend time with him whenever he's around."

"You're jealous? Is that what this is about?" she did not bother restraining her anger; she figured he was still suffering from the affects of the poison from that thing he killed. "You're not yourself."

"Oh I'm perfectly fine," he scoffed, "I could be out there hunting down those bastards who went after Ashe!" he stood up, "See," he danced around, "Perfectly fine!"

"Don't be stupid, Vaan," Penelo tried to get him to sit down again, "you need to rest."

"I have had too much rest!" he openly yelled at her, "I am not a child Penelo, I'm a grown man; I can handle a few scratches!"

"It's not the scratches I'm worried about!" she screamed, tears forming out of rage in her eyes, "We still don't know what that stuff was that thing pumped into you!"

"I'm fine," he growled, his eyes flashing menacingly, "I feel fine, and I am not putting up with this anymore." He marched past her and down the path.

"Vaan!" Penelo ran after him, "You can't! You don't know the area!"

"Watch me," he disappeared into the scrub, "Don't wait up!"

She stopped at the edge of the forest, deflated and worried.

* * *

The Strahl docked at the Aerodrome, the faint sent of Golmore blended with the salt of the sea drifted on the breezy air. Bhujerba celebrated the Autumn Equinox with a festival of light; a weeklong event with feasting, singing and dancing in the streets by day and at night the sky lights up with an elaborate pyrotechnical display. Every household had prepared an authentic Bhujerban banquet, each different from their neighbour, and presented it on long tables for all to enjoy. Balthier strolled down the road, picking at the many dishes available, some sweet, some spicy, some sour, some all of the above. "Care for some curry?" a middle-aged woman asked him, offering a cardboard bowl filled with the yellow, spiced stew.

"Thank you," he accepted the offering and continued on his way.

Slowly he wandered the streets looking for the Rozzarian Prince, when he heard a rapid argument from one of the stores, followed by Al-Cid slamming the door as he left it. "Balthier!" he cried, spotting him, "Please tell me it's you! Want a drink at the Cloudborne?"

"Depends," the suave pirate responded, "You buying?"

"Why not?"

* * *

The two settled into a secluded corner of the bar, two frothy ales in front of them, "So what brings you to Bhujerba?" Al-Cid asked, "I doubt it's for the festival."

"It's not for a honeymoon either, unfortunately," Balthier leaned back, trying not to look serious, "I do not know if you are aware of the trouble our good friend the Queen has been through."

"The only thing I have been troubled with has been my _Beloved's_," he stressed the last word bitterly, "Endeavour to by the entire floating Isle. I might as well through a tow cable on it and drag it back to Rozzaria … it would be cheaper."

"There is a new enemy to battle," Balthier explained, "The Children of Landis."

"I have never heard of them," the prince confessed, "Are they dangerous?"

"They are using, at least, what we have been lead to believe, a stolen Rozzarian warship with cloaking abilities and stratospheric flight," the pirate waited for Al-Cid's response.

He swore, in Rozzarian, "the bastards who stole the _Vengeance_!" he thumped the table hard, causing a small portion of beer to spill from the glasses; "If they have the _Vengeance_, expect mass devastation, she has been equipped with a weapon that matches the _Bahamut_."

"Has the Rozzarian military have the ability to track it?"

"If we did we would have it back by now," He sighed, flicking a lock of hair back behind his ear, "we have been working to find a way to detect the ship, but so far it has been for naught."

Balthier tapped his finger on the table, trying to ease his frustration, "They tried to kill Ashelia," he said, not lifting his eyes from his beverage.

Al-Cid froze, "She has harmed none," he cried, restraining his anger, "the woman is a saint!"

The Pirate sighed, "These barbarians care little for who is saintly and who isn't," he now looked at the Rozzarian Aristocrat, "can we rely on Rozzaria's aide in finding and defeating them?"

"You have my word; Rozzaria will do its part in the preservation of peace."

* * *

Great news! As well as my two current creations, I have started on another two! One is a sequal to Fall of the Republic and the other is one on it's own and is a bit of an experiment that is not for young eyes. Both are in a dire need of titles.


	12. Chapter 12: Separation

this took a little longer than I anticipated, I hope it was worth it, it was a bridging chapter to more exciting chapters! which theoretically shouldn't take so long.

* * *

Chapter 12: Separation.

Zargabaath and Basch had left early that morning; Ashe did not show her sadness for loosing her love for an indeterminable length of time, but she felt it. Basch had spent the night with her again, sneaking in during the night in silence, so as not to wake his Aunt. She thought it was quite endearing that her strong, brave champion was afraid of an elderly woman.

The Queen sighed despondently as she wandered the grounds alone; Ingra watched her from the window of the library. Her heart went out to the young woman; Basch, like both his father and brother, sacrificed his time with his loved ones for his responsibilities to his profession.

The children were listless, including Larsa, Filo and Kytes, the joy from B.J.'s birthday all but forgotten. Penelo had not seen Vaan since he took off the day before, the small junior band of pirates were at a loss to where he could be. Fran and Tal chose to keep to themselves, the concern with how close world events were to them yet again, overshadowing their personal problems.

* * *

The Magistrate anticipated the return of Judge Magisters Gabranth and Zargabaath; the chaos not easing at all. Judge Magister Richter paced as he waited for the aircraft that carried Zargabaath to dock; he felt ashamed that he had no new information for his colleagues. After what felt like an eternity and all the new security checks, they finally docked.

"Welcome back to Archadia, Gabranth," he greeted the head of the Ninth Bureau. "I had half expected you to return." The men shook hands.

"The Empire needs me," Basch admitted, "I believe I know who is responsible for the attack."

"At least that's something," Richter sighed, "this attack was unprovoked and unexpected. Which nation is responsible?"

The three Judges marched down the hall, Basch explaining what he knew and the events that occurred in Rabanastre, "…and now Archadia has lost the Senate, so an election must be organised quickly."

"It's the candidates that will be hard to muster," Zargabaath added, "the palace will be fine for the actual debates; I wouldn't blame anyone for not stepping up."

"Which means we must give assurances for the protection of the candidates," Basch continued seriously, "Even if it means holding question time is secret."

"How do we decide who should run for the available seats?" Richter questioned his two comrades.

"The old fashioned way," Zargabaath answered flatly, "let the people decide."

"I recommend that we choose the candidates for now," Basch cut in, "People from all areas of Archades and can be trusted not to have anything to do with the COL in any way." He stopped walking, "I must put my people onto the task as soon as the meeting is over."

"Agreed," Richter spoke up, "I'll also increase the patrols on the streets, now that we know it is not a direct attack from an enemy nation, we'll need to be extra vigilant."

They continued to the Magistrate council chambers, "I recommend that Lord Larsa remains in hiding," Zargabaath added.

"Where would you suggest?" Gabranth opened the door to the council chambers, greeting the other twenty-one Magisters seated around the ring-shaped table.

"Keep him where he is for now," Zargabaath said flatly, "if you are right about these people, they wouldn't attack their 'homeland'."

"Welcome back, gentlemen," Maar rose from her seat, as did all in the chamber, "Judge Magister Zargabaath, I return command to you."

"Thank you Maar," Zargabaath took his chair, "Please be seated, my fellow Judges." Everyone settled with a cacophony of armour clanking, his or her helmets set before each of the judges. "I wish to hear what each of you have to report."

* * *

The Strahl flew over Salikawood, Balthier nursing a hangover from the unexpected drinking competition with his old rival. The Pirate had decided that Al-Cid is a good friend, now that both of them were no longer vying for Ashelia's attentions; the Prince's heart really did sit on the side of peace and as much as Balthier hated to admit it, he liked the man.

He did not meet Al-Cid's new wife, but judging by the Rozzarian's deliberate dodging of _that_ particular topic, he guessed that it was not a happy union, at least, not any more.

"Mister Balthier, Sir," Bonbon carried a tray of spiced, cured meats, "You must eat, Sir."

Balthier rolled over, his eyes settling on the platter, "Tell me Bonbon, how do moogles cure hangovers?"

"The best cure for a hangover, sir," the moogle leaned in close, as though revealing a secret, "Is not to drink at all, Kupo!"

He threw his pillow at the moogle who giggled as he ran from the room, "sarcastic little shit," Balthier, grumbled as he sat up rubbing his eyes, "You forgot the coffee!" he called after the cocky moogle.

After eating, showering and spending an unnatural length of time in front of the mirror, perfecting his hair, he emerged from his cabin looking like the night before had never happened. "What's our status, Nono?" he asked, taking his place in the pilot's seat.

"Just entering the former kingdom of Nebradia, Kupo!" Nono said seriously, pocking at the control panel, "Clear sailing for now."

Bonbon scurried into the cockpit, carrying a mug of caffeinated goodness, "Your coffee, Sir," he offered with a snigger in his tone.

"You think you're so cleaver don't you, Bonbon," Balthier snidely asked, "did you spend all night thinking up your little joke?"

"Did you spend all morning thinking of your retort?"

"Careful fuzz ball, or I'll fix the little hole you drilled into Fran's cabin wall," the Pirate's grin said it all, he won; Bonbon's ears twitched slightly.

"Sir?" he called.

"Yes?"

"I don't know about any hole in mistress Fran's cabin wall."

* * *

Penelo began to get nervous, Vaan had been missing for a full day now and nobody seemed to notice. _Where could he have gone? _She thought as she paced aimlessly, _he could be anywhere!_ At first, Penelo stubbornly refused to go after him, she assumed that he was sulking when he did not show up for dinner the previous night. His conspicuous absence from breakfast worried her and now that he still missing, she could not sit around and do nothing.

"Which way did he go?" she asked herself, retracing his steps from yesterday, she looked down the path that lead to a forested area on the property. She followed it, hoping to find a trail, but the path abruptly finished just beyond the tree line. "Damn!"

* * *

The air felt cold between Fran and Tal, even as they bathed in the geothermal pool. "You have to tell me what scares you so much," Tal demanded of the silent Fran, who waded lazily.

Eventually, she sighed, "I don't like the idea of loosing you," her words were barely above a whisper.

"You won't loose me," he edged closed, the warm water enticing him to hold the Viera beauty, to comfort her.

"But I will," she continued, "One day, you will be no more and I will continue on, alone."

"Who says I can't live forever?" he held her tight, drawing a faint smile to her lips, "I have you know that I eat well and exercise every day; I could dye my hair for you to hide the grey if you like?"

Fran laughed, "I like the silver in your hair; it enhances your suave and majestic features."

"You make me sound like one of those cheesy prince charming types from formulaic romance novels," he grumbled, "if I remember correctly, it was _you_ who rescued _me_ when we first met."

"I didn't save you," she retorted, "I saved that _beastly saurian_ from a tasteless meal of cocky sixteen year old boy."

"I'll have you know that I was considered a man back then," Tal huffed indignantly, standing in mock protest; the water just covering his nakedness, "I don't recall you thinking me a child that night."

"You have changed so much," she saddened again; "I wish I hadn't left all those years ago. I could not face watching you age, each day to see you slip closer to your end."

"Franny, please; don't think like that," the general wanted to ease her discontent, "think only of now and our happiness."

"You are right," Fran conceded, "why should I get depressed from something that might not happen for many years; I must sound so ridiculous."

"A bit, however," he warmly embraced Fran, her cheek resting on his chest, "I will never doubt your love for me again." She said nothing, not wanting to break the moment. "Maybe I should endeavour to find that gem you told me about, we are in Landis after all."

"Impossible, it vanished from the museum when the republic fell," she wiped her eyes; Tal did not know that she had been crying until then, "Who has it now could be anyone's guess."

Penelo peaked through the trees; she saw Tal holding Fran in the pool and decided to move on, safely guessing that they had not seen her increasingly frustrating partner, Vaan. Her stomach tightened with dread; she had to find him soon.

* * *

Queen Ashelia felt the icy air as she entered the cold crypt, the dark clouds that hung in the sky finally opened up torrents of rain falling from above.

"Hello there," Ingra called from near the back, brushing off the dust from her skirt, "So what brings the Queen of Dalmasca into the crypt?" it was a rhetorical question, Ashe was soaked and the thundering of the rain outside was hard to miss.

"The house was too far away," she said dryly, "Is this the family tomb?"

"It is," the older woman replied, her face ghostly in the unnatural light provided by the incandescent crystals, "I'm tending to the more recent additions to the eternal resting place of our family."

Ashe walked closer to see fresh flowers on eight tombs, "I recognise one name but the others are new to me." She studied the names: _Ulrich Fon Ronsenburg 637 ~ 687, Valdar Fon Ronsenburg (nee Gabranth) 648 ~ 699, Frayja Fon Ronsenburg 669 ~ 669 age two months, Günter Falk 650 ~ 687, Meike __Hjördís Bloodbeard 671 ~ 687, __Kyra Drace 666 ~ 706, Cassia Gabranth Fon Ronsenburg (nee Ardent) 673 ~ 706, Noah Gabranth Fon Ronsenburg 670 ~ 706._ "Who are all these people?"

"Ulrich and Valdar are Basch's parents," Ingra began, "we don't actually have Ulrich's body, we suspect it's in the ruins of the Capital. Frayja is his sister who died unexpectedly, Cassia is Noah's wife and Günter is my dear sweet husband."

"Who is this Kyra Drace?" she enquired, "Is she a cousin?"

"Noah brought her here," she explained, matter-of-factly, "He said that she had been executed for an unjust reason. When I asked him, why he brought her to the Family tomb he did not answer. Cassia was furious!"

"I can understand that," the young Queen sighed, "If my husband brought home a woman to bury in our family tomb I would be suspicious as to why." She looked around, "I don't see Illandra here."

"We have not moved her here yet, due to the necessity of keeping Basch's true identity secret."

Ashe felt uncomfortable, "This Meike, is that who Basch as talking about the other night?"

"Aye, a sweet girl who stole both of the boys' hearts," the gentle older woman rested back on the stone bench across from the graves, "But it is not my place to say."

Another two grave caught Ashe's eye, one would have been missed entirely if she had not seen a familiar name on one: _Basch Fon Ronsenburg 598 ~ 661, Kasimira Fon Ronsenburg (nee Unruh) 602 ~ 669_. "Are these Basch's grandparents?"

"Yes," Ingra said simply.

"Is there some bad blood there?"

"Old Basch was my father," she swallowed, hesitating about Kasimira, "And _she_ was not a very nice person."

"You didn't get along?" Ashe asked cautiously.

"You could say that," Ingra diverted her attention to Noah's grave, "her traits, thankfully, ended with her. The boys were a pleasant blend of their parents and their children the same … more or less."

Ashe sat with her, the two staring at Noah's grave, "What happened to Gab … to Noah?"

"If you are asking about why he ended up slaying your Father," Ingra sternly reproached, her eyes borrowing into Ashe, "he had no choice."

"No," The Queen assured her, "I made my peace with that a long time ago; I just wanted to know … what happened to him?"

_Ingra had woke with a start, something landed on the lawn with a crash; the whole house heard it but only Ingra and Cassia rushed out to see who had caused the calamity._

"_Good heavens!" the older woman cried as the hatch opened and out stepped Basch with Noah in his arms, "I thought you were dead!"_

_Noah's eyes were shut, his breath shallow and laboured; "He's dying, Aunt," Basch collapsed to the ground on his knees, cradling his brother close, "He wanted to see his family one last time."_

"_Darling," Cassia fell to her husband's side, stroking his face, "what happened?"_

_He opened his eyes, "Cassia," he wheezed, "I'm sorry." He drew her hand to his heart, "Basch will care for you and the children."_

_The fair woman shook her head, "No, I can't live without you." She reefed the dying man into her arms, crying into his cropped hair. "I won't live without you."_

"_You must," he weakly sighed, holding her hand with all the energy he could muster, "for the children." Cassia quietly cast doom on herself; "What are you doing?"_

_She smiled sadly, "You promised me that we would die in each others arms, I'm holding you to that promise." She kissed him lovingly until their time expired._

_Basch, who was in close proximity to the couple as they departed the living world, felt his Aunt's hand rest on his shoulder, "I had a feeling she would do that," Ingra sighed, helping Basch to his feet, "I wish our reunion could have been under happier circumstances."_

"I only knew _Noah_," saying his name felt alien to Ashe, "as Gabranth and he nearly killed us all, twice."

Ingra wiped her eyes, "that bastard Vayne made him do many terrible things," she cleared her throat; "I believe it's time for lunch, don't you?"

* * *

The Senate creator, as it was now known, symbolised the despair all Archadians felt; Basch, with Judge Magisters Richter and Zargabaath, inspected the analysis Draklor researchers carried out in the gaping wound in the heart of the City. "Our hopes are that Draklor will find residue of the weapon," Richter informed his companions as the three stared down into the hole, "give us a chance to protect ourselves from future attacks."

"That may be one objective Draklor has for this research," Basch turned to Richter, "they are more than likely trying to replicate the weapon that caused this destruction."

"Would that be such a bad thing?" Richter challenged Basch, "The safety of the Empire is paramount."

"Such weapons have a habit of inviting attacks from our enemies," Basch retorted cautiously, "yet I can see your argument, our current enemy are unpredictable; however, an eye will have to be spared for the Laboratory, we don't need another Dr. Cid right now."

"Agreed," Zargabaath chose to join the conversation, "But I support the manufacture of a weapon that could defend Archades and although we are now at peace with Rozzaria, the future is never clear and we know they have this technology." He looked over the pit and shuddered, "plan for the worst."

The three men began to descend into the chasm, "how long will Draklor be studying the hole?" Basch asked one of the researchers, who gave a condescending glare at the Judge.

"As long as necessary, your honour," she said cynically, "great discoveries don't happen when the Magistrate snaps its fingers."

"Dr. Célestine," a cocky male chided the woman, "show some respect to the Judge Magisters, especially Gabranth, he saved Draklor from being shut down when Vayne was defeated … you would be unemployed." The dark man offered his hand in greetings, "I'm Dr. Themba, chief researcher of Draklor," the man's exotic features and accent made Basch grateful that Ashe was safe in his childhood home. "It's so nice to meet you at last."

Basch nodded, the muscular man stood eye to eye with him, he couldn't be a native to Archades, his near black skin could be Rozzarian, in truth, Basch had never met anyone as dark as him, "Forgive my naivety, but where are you from?"

He laughed merrily, "Sizwe in southern Rozzaria, I defected ten years ago; I get asked that all the time," he gave a coy grin, "I am surprised you have not read up on me. I do come from a lawless region of your former enemy."

It was an obvious statement, Basch had made the assumption that all those his brother had dealt with to be safe or in prison, "No need," he smiled, not that the charismatic scientist could see, the Judge's helmet obscuring Basch's face, "We're lucky to have you."

Themba flashed a toothy smile, "And in answer to your earlier question, we are nearly done here," his smile faded, "no residue yet but a strong magnetic field has appeared since the attack, hopefully that will give us a clue as to how the weapon works."

"Could we rebuild?" Zargabaath asked, gazing out over the pit.

"Not until we neutralise the magnetism," Themba said factually, "we do not know what health problems could arise." He fell silent in contemplation, "We should move pregnant women and children out of the area, we can't be too careful."

"Too true," Richter agreed, "We'll evacuate them as soon as we are done here."

"There is nothing more to give you," Themba sighed, "I wish we could, but the technology used is way ahead of ours, who ever created this … this weapon, had no intensions of leaving any survivors; we were lucky this time."

"I hope Balthier had better luck with Al-Cid," Basch preyed solemnly.

* * *

The Judges went their separate ways as the day came to an end, Basch ventured to a mall off of Tsenoble to find a substantial meal at a restaurant run by his Archadian cousin Mari Zarkov. The Ardent eatery gleamed with smooth polished wood with gold gilding on the walls and bar with gold scrolled candelabras dotting the walls and tables; less flamboyant then when her mother ran it.

"_Gabranth_!" the hostess called cheerfully, "You have been keeping secrets!"

"Yes," Basch called back, "It's my job!" he sat at the bar, removing his helmet.

The woman slapped his shoulder, "Your engagement, silly," she giggled, pouring an ale for him, "Oh, you're not on duty are you?"

"No," he smiled back to his cousin, "I leave for home tonight, see the family …"

"And …" the tall brunette encouraged, "She's there isn't she," she whispered to Basch, "Indulging in marital delights before the big night?" she winked knowingly, "You haven't changed at all Basch."

"I asked you not to call me that in public," he winced, rubbing his bow, "need to know, remember."

"I swear Noah just absorbed into you when he died," Mari paused, "But then again, both of you were secretive when we were kids."

Basch chuckled quietly, "I came here for a meal and to ask if you will be at the wedding next month?"

"So soon?" Mari's grin widened, "is there a _reason_ for the rapid nuptial?"

"Only to boost the moral of the Empire," he sipped his beverage, "Not that I'm complaining."

"No, I didn't think you would," she leaned on the counter, "Now what would the Magister desire for sustenance this eve?"

* * *

Ashe heard the distinct whine of an Archadian Airship as it landed on the landing pad, without thinking, she abandoned her dinner and the others around the table to greet the incoming pilot. She stopped when she saw it was the Strahl, Balthier had returned. The moogles leaped down and scurried to the house for dinner; leaving Balthier behind.

The Pirate swaggered up to the Queen, "I didn't expect you to be out here to greet me? What of your betrothed?"

"He's in Archades," she informed him despondently, "the Senate is gone; they blew it up or something."

"Then I am too late," he said morosely, "they have an experimental Rozzarian destroyer, never before has a ship been so aptly named."

They walked silently back to the house, neither of them wanting to talk any further. Ashe had not been terribly comfortable with Balthier since he and Fran made their return from the dead. Her brief and passionate fling with the Pirate three years ago had not been the best of ideas; he scratched an itch but in the process of doing so, it became weird between them. In truth, she would have approached Basch that night, but Balthier was there, more than willing and less reserved.

Poor Basch still screamed in his sleep at that time, crying out the name she now knows was his brother's; he held back from the others then, carrying the guilt of crimes that were not his. Thinking back, she should have behaved more like the lady she use to be rather than a horny solder she had become.

"Ashe," Balthier disturbed her thoughts, "I am happy for you."

"Thank you Balthier," she felt a little less guilty, "I'm sorry for dropping you the way I did."

"Don't worry about it," he slapped her on the back, "I kind of knew you had feelings for Basch from the beginning."

"Oh? How so?"

"Nobody slaps a friend that hard," his words truthfully spoken, "No that slap is reserved for betrayed love, even I felt it."

Ashe snickered, "I still feel terrible for that."

"Relax, I think he enjoyed it."

* * *

Basch sat in a private booth in the rear of the restaurant, a waiter placing a large plate of roasted meat and vegetables with lashings of gravy. He tucked into his meal with vigour, thankful his cousin could cook his childhood favourites. He sat there for no more then ten minutes, when a blond man sat opposite him with a cocky grin, "The food here is rather good here isn't it _Noah?_"

The Judge looked up to his guest, his eyes studying the man, "And who are you?"

"A child to an occupied land," he answered, "And I hope a worthy Nemesis."

Basch's eyes narrowed, "Are you the one they call Johan?"

"Nothing get's by you does it," the sarcasm in Johan's voice dripping like venom from a viper, "Now I see how a womanising Bastard climbed his way to the top of the Ninth."

The man's words angered Basch; his late brother had worked hard and sacrificed much to earn his position as head of the Ninth. "Are you not afraid that I will arrest you? You have exposed yourself."

"Why don't you touch me," Johan smugly challenged, "Arrest me Gabranth."

Basch did not move, "I would rather enjoy my meal in peace," he lied, he wanted to take Johan up on his challenge, but he knew that the man would not have risked a public confrontation without an escape plan.

"Do not worry, _Noah_," he chuckled, "I have no plans to kill _you_."

"Just _who_ are you planning to kill?" Basch took a gamble, hoping that he would slip up.

Johan laughed heartily, "and have me ruin your surprise? Do you like it when someone tells you the ending of a book before you read it?"

Basch lost his temper, taking his knife and striking at the man's hand, the blade digging into the wood of the table, "what trickery?"

Johan laughed, pulling his hand back, waving it triumphantly, "I'm just a projection, a message to you from somewhere safe."

"I will bring you to justice, _Johan_," Basch growled through his teeth, "Or die trying."

"I hope not," he flashed a supercilious smile, "It would spoil the fun." His image faded, grinning like a mad man, infuriatingly arrogant.

The calm returned to Basch, thankful that he now knew what the criminal looked like, the man who wished his beautiful Ashelia dead, the man whose heart will be cast in lead and his head on a pike for daring to harm his love.

* * *

The forest was dark and sounded scary, yet Penelo did not stop, she did not know what time it was or where exactly she was, she was determined to find Vaan … and beat the living crap out of him for being so stupid!

"Vaan!" she called, as she followed the trail, if you could call it that, the odd foot step here and there was all she could find, "Vaan, where are you?"

"Penny?" Vaan called back, his voice faint in the distance. "I'm … um … stuck."

Penelo ran to where she heard him calling, her feet slipping in the mud from the day's rain as she ran. "Keep calling!" she yelled, scrambling to her feet again.

"Argh!" she heard him cry.

"That's it! Keep going!" she encouraged.

"I'm not calling for you, something's coming!"

Penelo heard a screech like a dark skeleton from Golmore, only more terrifying. She ran harder, cursing the fact she left her weapon back in the Strahl. She arrived to a sliding halt, the skeleton of what looked like a wyrm thrashed about crying a blood-curdling scream. "Vaan?" she spotted him stuck in a mire up to his knees, "Can you move?"

"What do you think?" he spat cynically, "I'm stuck in this shit up to my knees and a dragon thingy is going to make me a midnight snack!" he ducked from the snapping jaws, "Cast holy already!"

"I can do better than that," she yelled, "I can summon Hashmal."

"Great!" the thief ducked again, "Just hurry!"

Penelo summoned with all her energy, she had not called Hashmal for years and hope he would come. Crossing her fingers, she summoned the Esper of Order. In a flash, he came into existence and began to attack the Wyrm Skeleton as Penelo went to Vaan's aid, pulling him from the sludge. Staggering away, she looked to Vaan who fell against a tree in complete exhaustion. "Are you okay?"

He weakly smiled, "I am now."

"Vaan, what possessed you to run off like that?" she knew she should be nicer to him, he did almost die moments before, but she was still angry.

"I don't know, just seemed like a good idea," he tried to charm her with his puppy-dog eyes.

"Don't do that, Vaan," she snapped, "I could have lost you tonight; doesn't that mean anything?"

He saw her eyes in the moonlight, glittering like diamonds and the guilt hit him, she was like a sister to him, they had saved Ivalice together, twice; how could he hurt her so? "I'm sorry Pen," his heart broke with the weight of the remorse, "I can't think how I could make it up to you."

"Just listen and think, that's all I ask," she pulled him into a hug, "Now let's just wait for Hashmal to finish that undead dragon off, huh?"

"Yeah."

* * *

The Magistrate looked sterile in the darkness at night; Basch still felt his blood racing through his veins, the visit from Johan agitated him more than those years, helpless in that cage in Nalbina. No, he had to keep his head clear; report the incident, with description and all will be fine.

His office in the Magistrate had not seen him in months, luckily, the cleaner was most efficient in keeping it clean and exactly how he left it, Spartan. Switching on the light, he got to work, sketching Johan as best he could, then filing the report. The hours he worked, eating at his energy, his eyelids feeling heavy. He sealed the report, with the sketch into an envelope addressed to Judge Magister Zargabaath and labelled it top secret.

Leaving it in Zargabaath's office, he left for his private craft in the Magistrates hanger, where a sleek, fast craft made for clandestine missions; or in this case, to the bed of his love, was waiting to go. Leaping into the cockpit, he taxied out of the hanger and headed home.

* * *

Vaan hobbled back to the estate with Penelo holding him up, "You know what Vaan?"

"What?"

"You have walked into trouble twice this week," she began.

"And?"

"And, it has been after you do something stupid," Penelo chuckled, "But fear not, chances are the next time trouble occurs, it will occur to someone else."

"Yeah, then I'll be doing the rescuing!" Vaan thrust his fist into the air heroically. They spotted the Strahl, "Hay Balthier's back! I hope he brought some madhu."

* * *

Writer's block is now gone, so now I'm off to bed; Night!


	13. Chapter 13: Unguarded Moments

This has been a long time coming and I apologise for how late this is, I was attempting to get this out for new years, oh well.

* * *

Chapter 13: Unguarded Moments.

Basch pushed his aircraft to the limit, the engines screamed angrily as he willed the small ship to move faster. His desire to sleep in his lover's arms grew with each moment; the distance between them was a wound in his heart, which luckily was closing rapidly. He wondered how he managed all those other times he found himself far from Ashelia.

He watched the clouds part for the moon to shine through, illuminating a large lake, the reflection resembled Ashe's eyes darkened with passion. The thought sent a shiver down Basch's spine, their time apart, albeit short, sent his longing for the Desert Queen into over drive.

He felt his desire manifest as he set the craft to autopilot and drifted into a daydream involving Ashe, a silken bed and an array of fragrant oils. He floated from his daydream into a pleasant and satisfying dream. He did not wake until the computer sounded that he had arrived at his destination, the Ronsenburg Estate. Carefully landing the aircraft, he leapt out onto the tarmac, leaving his helmet behind.

"Basch?" a frantic Ashelia called, running from the house out to greet him, "Oh thank the Gods you're back!" before he could respond; she leapt into his arms, covering his face with desperate kisses.

Basch did not push her away; he accepted her attentions with fervour, returning her hungered kisses with his own. They collapsed on the tarmac, Basch barely able to stop himself from crushing his Queen under him, his arms jarring with the shock and Ashe landing with a faint thud on her back. Her expression showing nothing of the impact she had just suffered, only a ravenous yearning with intent.

"I missed you," she moaned, tugging at the collar of his armour, drawing him closer.

"I …" he shuddered, feeling her knee caress his unprotected inner thigh, "I can see that, My Love." If she was not careful, he would take her there, under the full moon.

Ashe pulled the bow that fastened his cape around his neck, it appeared she had the same thought as he. "Basch," her breath hot against his neck, "I _need_ you now," her tongue and full lips replaced her breath on his throat; his flesh erupting with goose bumps as Ashe made it clear that she would take what she wanted. Falling, helplessly under her spell, he gave in, sliding his leather clad hands under her garments, touching her soft curves tenderly as she methodically removed his hard outer layer.

The Judge could not believe what was happening, there, in the open air; Queen Ashelia of Dalmasca was undressing him. If the night was cold, he did not feel it, giving into his need for her, his need to please her. He growled as she began to suckle at his earlobe, Basch was now enslaved to her, he did not care about anything else at that moment, and he will give the Lady what she desires.

With great reluctance, he pulled away, breaking her teasing of his ear to join his mouth with hers in a rapturous kiss. _Take me,_ Ashe's mind screamed; Basch's mischievous fingers finding every sensitive spot on her body with the exception of where she intended him to touch. "Take me, Damnit!" she snarled hotly into his mouth.

Obediently, he ripped her underwear away, taking in her scent like a dehydrated man would drink from an oasis in the desert. With a hasty fumble with his own coverings, he pushed his way into her feminine aperture. Grasping her face with both his hands, he covered her with worshiping kisses, fighting his primal urge of more forceful lovemaking. With no forewarning, Ashe locked her legs around his waist, begging him to be closer. In the back of his mind, he still saw that delicate princess who insisted his protection six years earlier, however, those defiantly demanding eyes from years ago that he fell in love with now commanded that he express his love for her; something that once would have meant his certain death.

"For the love of the Gods!" Ashe whined, vehemently in his ear, "Don't hold back!" that was all he needed to hear to let his primordial instincts to take charge. Basch claimed the woman, who would shortly be his bride almost savagely, her cries for more driving him beyond exhaustion just to please her in everyway.

The Queen trembled with bliss, her body slick with sweat as her lover lunged with all his might sending electricity through her extremities. Clinging to his shoulders, she exploded in orgasmic bliss, more intense than Basch had ever felt from her before, sending him over the edge into his own ecstasy.

He rolled off to her side, pulling his trembling love close in his arms. The earthy scent of his aunt's homemade soap perfumed Ashe's hair; the aroma lulling him into contentment. "Welcome home, Basch," she sighed into his chest.

"I am home where ever you are," he replied warmly, nuzzling into her hair to inhale more of the woodland bouquet.

"I better be," The content Monarch joked as she traced small circles on his bicep.

"We should go inside," Basch said after a long comfortable silence, "the hard surface is hurting my back."

Ashe began to giggle, "So, the Judge Magister does have a weakness." She leaned in for another kiss, "But you are right, your aunt will kill you for what we did tonight."

"You being royalty instantly makes you innocent in the whole endeavour, does it?" he asked, cocking his eyebrow.

"Well … yes it does," Ashe sat up, grinning like a naughty child.

Basch propped himself up on his side, "perhaps I should put you across my knee for lying," he said smirking back at her.

"Promise?" she challenged, still grinning.

"As you wish," Basch stood up, "My Lady," he offered his hand to help her to her feet.

"Shouldn't you fix that?" she pointed to his still exposed anatomy. Basch blushed and straightened his clothing before aiding the Queen. Once she was safely on her feet, he gave her a playful smack to her behind. "Ow! What was that for?"

"You made me promise," he chuckled, "But now I must be serious." He pulled her into a loving embrace, "It appears that our wedding might not be able to be held at the end of winter like was planned."

"What?" Ashe was horrified, "Our wedding is being postponed?"

"No," he explained calmly, "it's been brought forward to the end of the month, permitting the Dalmascan Council will agree. Archadia is in need of a pleasant distraction after such a devastating event."

"Good heavens, I didn't even ask about the imperial city," Ashelia felt guilty at her selfishness, "those poor people."

"Zargabaath is taking care of things in Archadia, their in good hands," Basch reassured her, stroking her hair, "You may sleep soundly tonight, love."

* * *

Balthier closed his curtain; he did not intend to see the Judge with his Queen in such an intimate way, the sight tore at his heart. Yes, Ashelia still captivated him, her spirit and determination carried their band of misfits through their quest to save Ivalice; twice. She was not his usual type of woman; his taste usually involved wealthy, insecure women with a demure temperament, not self-confident strong women, like _her_. Ashe never bought his smooth, seductive words; she was quite blunt when she told him he sounded ridiculous. Nobody had ever talked to him like that, well maybe Fran, but she is his partner, practically family; but Ashe, he could not let her go. Those short months in her arms will remain in his soul until he dies.

"You shouldn't dwell on things you have no control over," Ingra said from the door, her shoulders covered with a pale blue silken scarf, "You are only young, you will find someone else … not so high ranking."

The pirate chuckled, "Do you make a habit of not knocking when entering a guest's bedroom?"

"Not usually," she grinned wickedly, "But for you I made an exception."

"Come to seduce the younger man?"

"I figured you were in need of company," she sobered from her moment of mirth, "As we both are suffering from unrequited love."

"Forgive my intrusion, but who are you thinking about?" Balthier leaned against the window frame, crossing his arms casually.

Ingra produced a bottle of amber coloured liquid, "Maybe after a few of these."

"Now you're talking," Balthier reached for the bottle, opening it swiftly and taking a sip. "_When life kicks you in the teeth a good stiff drink is all you need_," he sang mournfully.

The older woman chuckled, "Who taught you that one?"

"You dear nephew," the pirate sighed, "the night after we freed Ashelia from the _Leviathan_." He slumped on the bed, "I should learn a new drinking song for this one, huh?"

"Yes, perhaps," Ingra sat next to him, "Although, Basch must have learned them all when he was a teen, he and his brother were both troublesome up until that last day."

"What do you mean?" Balthier took another swig of the warm liquor.

"What you saw out that window was nothing," she explained with a slight slur to her voice, then chuckled, "Those boys would visit the brides the night before their weddings."

"I can't imagine Basch participating in such a dishonourable act," He laughed, "although I should not be surprised."

"Between him and Noah, they took the virtue of every girl of their generation in the village," her merry chortle contagious, "I caught them once in that thermal spring on the hill with three … no four girls when they were just fifteen."

"I had to wait until I entered the Akademy before I even kissed a girl," the pirate grumbled, "when I was sixteen."

"You were raised a gentleman, I can see that," Ingra reassured him, "The boys, well we all tried, but they had their mother's rebellious spirit."

"You do realise that this is some powerful ammunition for his last night of freedom," Balthier flopped back on the bed, "do you have any compromising photographs?"

"Only the ones his aunt Elizar has in Archadia," she sighed heavily, "our ones were destroyed when Archadia invaded; most of this lovely house was burnt as was the village."

"I did not mean to upset you Lady Ingra, forgive me," propping himself up on his elbows he glanced at the older woman who stared at nothing in particular, "Who is he? The one who denies you happiness?"

Taking a sip of the beverage, Ingra sighed, "About a year after Landis fell, I met a charming man, a Judge."

"You fell in love with your invader?"

"No, I left before the invasion with Valdar and Noah," she smiled, "I got myself a job at the Magistrate as a cleaner."

"I believe I saw a cheesy romantic play like that once," Balthier chuckled.

Ingra slapped his arm, "Cheeky," she chided him, "it's more complicated than those cheaply produced romantic plays, I was only widowed the year previously."

"And what's his name?" he asked impatiently.

"Sir," she said mockingly, "A lady is entitled to her secrets, especially when it comes to matters of the heart."

"Married?"

"No just busy."

* * *

His arms ached under the weight of the boxes of paperwork that Draklor had sent over, But the Judge Magister was glad that he neared his office. With the boxes balancing precariously on one arm, Zargabaath opened his office door and entered. He had chosen not to wear his armour that morning, as it was in dire need of buffing, instead he wore his regular uniform, pressed and starched as per regulations. Dumping the boxes in his _in_ tray with a grunt of relief.

"Gabranth has left already?" Maar asked from the door of his office; she too was in her regular uniform.

"No Armour today?" Zargabaath asked curiously.

She smiled casually, "I have almost as much paperwork to do as you do," she chuckled.

"Yes, well," he ran his fingers through his hair, "this will take me the better part of the month leading up to Gabranth's wedding. I hope I will be able to attend."

The stout woman ventured further into the office, "Would you like some help?" her hand resting on the top of the boxes, "Dr. Themba is a productive man."

"No he just repeats himself in different ways until you understand the gobbledegook he usually talks about," the mature gentleman tore the red tape off the first box and retrieved the first file, "I should manage to get through this unaided, unless he unloads another few boxes on me."

Maar shook her head in amusement, "I must go; crime has risen by 50% in the last few days alone." She left with a bow and marched off to her own office. She was not wrong, shop lifting and violence being the predominant transgressions, however, they had managed to avert rioting in the masses in efficient Archadian style.

A shudder ran down the Judge's back, a foreboding feeling settling on his shoulders, something told him that something bad was going to happen, worse than the Senate.

* * *

The _Vengeance_ hovered off the Phon Coast, ominously still against the gusts of the jet stream. Johan stood in the window of his quarters, watching the clouds rush past; he had a grin that could not be wiped from his face, seeing _Noah's_ face filled with rage was pure delight. Wolfram entered the room, still in a forlorn temperament, "Ah, Adlersflügel, perhaps you could assist me with something?"

"Yes Johan, anything," he answered nonchalantly, walking towards him with his eyes cast down.

"I would like to give my dear _Gabranth _a wedding present he will never forget!" The malignant man smiled broadly as though he genuinely wished the man well.

"Then we are putting our final plan into action?" Wolfram asked simply, "Then can we free my wife?"

"Yes," he replied, strolling towards the Landian man, "I will free her, you have my promise."

* * *

Late in the afternoon, Balthier waited for Basch to meet with him, to discuss his latest findings about the _Vengeance_, however the Judge Magister still had not emerged from his room, neither had Ashe. He did not want to think about what they were doing so late in the day. He slumped at the table with his fourth cup of coffee; he had to give it to Ingra, she had excellent taste.

Vaan had been at the table also, attempting to read the book Ingra had given him to help pass the time, she had told him that it was about her ancestors and it was _a bloody good read_. The young man chuckled to himself, as if he could read a cheesy romance novel. Balthier looked up to him and noticed that Vaan lingered just inside the cover, reading the written personal message there. Curiosity took over; he swaggered over to Vaan and read the message that held the man's attentions: _My Dearest Valdar, Happy Anniversary, With Love Ulrich_.

"Who do'ya think they are?" Vaan asked Balthier once he noticed the pirate hovering behind him.

"I believe they are Basch's parents," he said calmly, "Look at the date in the cover." 670 O.V.

"What does that mean?" the blond thief asked obliviously.

Balthier sighed, "That's the year Basch and his infamous twin were born," Balthier resisted the urge to slap him, even though the compulsion was nearly too much to bare. "Tell me Vaan, how is it that your brain can achieve such wondrous ideas at a moment's notice yet when everything is presented to you, you don't get it?" Vaan gave him a blank expression, "I thought as much," Balthier chuckled. Vaan decided to read the book with the occasional questioning look over to the know-it-all pirate.

The attention of the two men in the room shifted upon the arrival of the nuptials, both looking like they had very little sleep and dishevelled. Ashe's face sported a rosy hue at the discovery of Balthier and Vaan greeting them.

Balthier could not help himself, he pushed the hurt down and covered it up with his usual smug arrogance, "Sleep well?" he asked with a false smile and knowing gaze. Ashe's face brightened.

Basch only smiled, "Eventually," he finally answered, sending Ashe a warm look. Ashe did not think her face could burn any hotter, but she was proven wrong. The few short days she spent away from Basch affected her more than she was willing to admit to, or had ever experienced. Basch did not mind, he liked the desperate lovemaking by his aircraft, the lawn, the foyer, against the landing wall and finally his room for a few more hours; the queen was insatiable, not that he was complaining.

"Is there anything to eat?" Ashe asked quietly.

"Nothing for your appetite," Balthier grinned, sending her a sly wink. She scowled at him, gripping Basch's arm tight.

They took their seats opposite the pirate, "Now," Basch settled into business mode quickly, "What can you tell me?" Balthier filled him in on everything he learned from Al-Cid; then it was the Judge's turn to announce a few things; "The wedding has been moved forward to boost moral in the empire." Basch's words were to the point, "As the new date a month from now, I will need extra help with my side of the ceremony, Larsa and the Magistrate can only do the official side, but I wish to make this more personal," he gazed at Ashe lovingly, "to express our true feelings for each other."

As though a red-hot poker was stabbed into his heart, Balthier knew what was being asked of him, in Archadia they were referred as the best man, but as this would be a Dalmascan ritual, it was a little more intimate than that. Yes he would do it, be his _Fóstbródhir_, as he did not have a living brother to aide him in his wedding. For all the hurt Balthier felt, that Ashe would be Basch's and not his, he could not turn down the man he had been through so much, hell they had been through the darkest times of their lives together. "I know what you are going to ask," The pirate cut in, "Yes, I will."

Basch smiled broadly thrusting his hand across the table to seal the deal; "I always saw you as a brother," he said through his grin.

"And I, you," Balthier returned the smile, most of it genuine, "Ever since I rescued your sorry arse from Nalbina." Vaan almost piped up from his book, ready to make a complaint but Ashe's gaze silenced his words before he spoke.

"At least you didn't attack me," Basch shot an amused grin at Vaan who decided to go find Penelo, "Do you know what will be required of you?"

Ashe whispered her good-byes and also left, this was man talk and she did not want to hinder the discussions.

Balthier leaned back in his chair, locking his fingers behind his head, "Only from what I've read."

Basch chuckled, "When I was part of the Order, I had the privilege to be a lieutenant's _Fóstbródhir._ It won't hurt at all." Basch walked over to Balthier, pulling out a rather painful looking dagger with a red silk ribbon tied to it.

"What are you planning to do with that?" Balthier asked, already feeling what was to come.

Basch chuckled, "It is nothing compared to the injuries you have incurred during battle."

"But I wasn't anticipating them!" his voice shrieked with panic making the older man chuckle.

"Here," he grabbed Balthier's reluctant hand and sliced the heart line of his palm, then doing the same to himself.

"So other than make a bloody mess on the rug," a very agitated pirate spat at Basch, "What do I do now?"

Basch laughed again, pressing his hand to Balthier's in a strange handshake, "it's done," his smile beamed proudly, "Brother."

Balthier looked at the cut on his hand, "Was there a less painful way of doing that?" he asked, pulling out a small potion bottle from his pocket, poured a portion into his hand and rubbed it in.

"There is," the Judge smiled, "But you would have to have been born _as_ my brother." He followed Balthier's lead with the potion and leaned against the table, "I ask for a simple buck's night, I don't think I could handle anything too wild."

"What's the matter?" Balthier grinned, "The big bad Judge Magister all partied out?" his grin dropped at the serious look on Basch's face.

"I know how most grooms end up," he sighed, flicking back an imaginary lock of hair, "I don't think I could handle it … mentally." His voice was barely a whisper; Balthier knew what he meant, his time in Nalbina had left more than just the physical scars, he recalled the blood curdling screams Basch would make in his sleep for months after their escape from the depraved pit.

"We will celebrate your last night of freedom your way," Balthier bowed his head in mock respect, knowing it would be received better than the genuine thing. "Can we have strippers?"

"No," Basch replied in a stern tone.

"Heavy drinking?"

"No."

"Embarrassing stories we know about you?"

"No."

"Can we at least get to hear some of the juicy tales of your bedroom antics with Ashe?"

"Definitely not!"

Balthier huffed, "Well you're no fun, what can we do?"

"You," Basch began, "can organise a quiet evening for the six of us and help me prepare for the ceremony the following day."

"So no booze?"

"No."

"No women?"

"No."

"And no awkward bondage games?"

"No."

"You, sir, are with out a doubt, a killjoy!"

* * *

Ashe raked her fingers through her hair to tidy it up a bit before hunting down Fran and Penelo, she like Basch, needed someone to aide her in her upcoming wedding, her _Perluvinir_. However, which of her friends will she choose?

She spotted Vaan listening to Penelo read to him the book he attempted before in the dining room, her amusement at the fact that the blond thief sitting on the ground in front of Penelo like a student listening to his teacher made the young monarch chuckle.

"… her eyes flashed with rage as one of the barbarians ripped away her nightgown …Ah Vaan?" Penelo stopped as Ashe approached.

"What?" he replied, innocently.

"Are you sure Ingra gave this to you to read?" she asked him with a raised eyebrow, "It's more graphic than the copy I have."

"Really?" Vaan nearly leapt to his feet and tried to snatch the book from his childhood friend, "let me see!"

Penelo's reflexes were quicker than he realised, she safely evaded his grasp and closed the book, "Hi Ashe!" she greeted Ashe with the intent to distract Vaan long enough to forget about the book.

"Hello," she returned the greeting and sat with them, "Vaan could you please find Fran?"

"You want me to bring her back here?" he asked cautiously.

"Please," Ashe begged, in reality, she did not want him around; however, she needed both her friends there to relay the news of her wedding. Vaan did not need to be told twice, he ran off to find the increasingly illusive Fran, who, no doubt was with Tal somewhere.

Penelo turned to see Ashe beaming brighter than the day she wed Rassler. "Alright," the young dancer's expression mirroring the queen's, "What is it?"

"The wedding has been moved forward," Ashe nearly squealed with delight, "I need you and Fran to help me get ready!"

Penelo nearly jumped up and down where she sat with excitement, "Oh do I get to help you with the dress?"

"Yes."

"Jewellery?"

"Yes."

"Your hen's night?"

"Most definitely."

Penelo squeaked with anticipation, "Wow! Oh my, what shall you wear?" Penelo fell straight into the roll of _Perluvinir_ without hesitation. "Where do you want to go for you last night of freedom?"

Fran swaggered over without Vaan in tow, "You asked to see me?"

"Yes, I did," Ashe filled Fran in on the news of the wedding and the three began planning the most important event before the ceremony, the hen's night.

"So, any ideas on what you would like?" Penelo obviously had a scheme concocting in her mind.

"You will want a place called Pecador Placer in Cuevas Rozzaria," Fran cut in.

"The underground city?" Ashe queried, "It's famous for its religious buildings."

"Pecador Placer is a ladies club," Fran explained with a devious grin, "Where the only men there are employees."

Penelo's eyes flashed open, "You mean _that_ place?"

Ashe looked on with confusion, as Fran nodded gleefully, "I don't understand," she looked from one pirate to the other.

"Just the best place for a queen to enjoy the night before her wedding!" Penelo excitedly explained, "The dancers, serving staff and even the cleaners are the sexiest men in all of Ivalice! And they do their work nearly naked!"

Ashe laughed, "And you had a problem with the graphic nature of a classic love story?"

The young woman scoffed, "Vaan doesn't have the maturity to understand any of that stuff," she sighed sadly, "he espiers to be like Balthier except for where it counts."

Fran rested her hand on the blonde's shoulder, "trust me, Balthier needs a lot of practice still, he's lost interest in women anyway."

Ashe appeared surprised but Penelo was the one who spoke, "he's not … you know …"

"No," Fran chuckled, "he's not inclined towards men … but the sooner he embraces hume nature the happier he will be." She looked at Penelo, "If Vaan is failing in his half of the bargain, maybe you could break Balthier out of his drought; he is capable of bring a woman to orgasm."

Penelo blushed, "That's more than I wanted to know," she buried her face in her hands.

"Maybe you should ask him to teach Vaan how to treat a woman with respect," Ashe joined in.

"Hay it's suppose to be Ashe's party we're talking about not Vaan's lack of ability!" Penelo protested, "Anyway, does Basch measure up? Is he any good?"

"We know you've been sampling the merchandise before the purchase," Fran teased, "does that bulge he carries in the front of his pants match up to what is actually there?"

Ashe laughed, "That's a little more information than I'm willing to share," she cried, "but I can say that I am more than satisfied."

"I must confess," Fran added, "Tal has a long tongue that can do wondrous things … Penelo are you sure you do not wish for Balthier to sexually gratify you? You're looking depressed all of a sudden."

"I don't know," she spoke dryly; "at least Vaan doesn't take time out of treasure hunting just to have his way with me."

"Has Vaan even touched you in that way?" Ashe asked a little more enthusiastically than she intended to.

"Yes," Penelo answered exasperatedly, "I don't see what the big deal is?"

Fran laughed aloud, "And you _stopped_ him from reading one of the most erotic legends in history?"

* * *

News spread fast throughout Ivalice of the new date for Queen Ashelia and Judge Magister Gabranth's wedding and as everyone returned to Rabanastre along with the trickle of guests that had begun to arrive with weeks still to go and the official invitations still being written by the Emperor himself. Ingra and the children and quietly entered Dalmasca in the Strahl and were currently staying in the guest quarters of the Palace.

Ashe, Penelo and Fran all sat in the Royal bedchamber, waiting for the first fitting of the wedding dress, along with the fuss of accessorising, with only two weeks to go, the three women became inseparable during the day in the Palace.

"Oh I can't wait to see the dress!" Penelo exclaimed, sitting on one of the plush, blue, velvet chairs in the Royal bedchamber, "And the shoes!"

"The Royal Dressmaker will be here when she's here," Ashe giggled, "it is not the smallest of dresses, I've gone for a classic Archadian design this time around, with some inspiration from Landis." The young Queen blushed mildly, "I do hope Basch likes it."

"What ever it looks like, I dare say he will," Fran reassured her, "but I highly doubt he will be paying much attention to what you will be wearing, other than how hard it will be to get you out of it."

"Honestly," Penelo asked, exasperated, "won't you talk about anything other than sex?"

"It's a wedding, Penelo," Fran sighed, "It's all about sex."

"Will you be as blatant with it when I finally get married?" the young blond asked.

"Of Coarse," Ashe politely answered.

"Definitely," said Fran, both women not bothering to hide the truth.

"You two are disgusting," Penelo stated, crossing her arms across her chest.

The dressmaker finally arrived, wheeling in the wedding dress and the two dresses for Fran and Penelo on a rack. "Ladies," she bowed her head with respect.

Without warning, more people shuffled into the room, carrying jewellery, shoes and other bits and pieces to adorn the trio on the day. "I thought this was just a fitting?" Ashe asked.

"You're Majesty," the dressmaker addressed her, "With all due respect, with the date moved forward, we have to multitask in order to get everything done in time," she lifted the wedding dress off the rack, "the Emperor has had to enlist help with the twelve hundred invitations."

"I thought most of this was taken care of by now," Ashe spoke with some surprise; "And aren't the Archadians helping?"

The dressmaker chuckled, "Ma'am, the Archadians are paying for the gala. Plus your dear husband-to-be has selected the range of jewellery for you to choose from." The tall, slender woman winked at the queen, "and what ever you choose not wear on your special day you are to keep anyway, as a present."

"You are so lucky, Ashe," Penelo sighed, "I wish _I_ had a Judge Magister waiting for me."

"Well you do have an Emperor pining for you," Fran informed her with a knowing smile.

"Please, don't remind me," the young blond stood, as the dressmaker measured her dimensions, "Can you believe her referred to me as the future Empress?"

"Oh, come on, Penelo," Ashe laughed, "give the kid a break, it's just a crush, it's not like anything can happen now, can it." The young queen inspected the many elegant jewels placed before her, all colour coordinated with the blue-white gown and not one karat of gold to be seen. "Where is the gold?" Ashe asked the woman who stood with the treasure, who was clearly Archadian, her pale skin and chestnut hair betraying her origins.

"His Honour insisted that no gold was to be given to you," the woman explained, "He believed it clashed with your eyes."

Penelo waited patiently as Ashe finished her little conversation with the Archadian woman, "he's been getting worse, Ashe."

"How so?"

"I was hoping that he would be distracted by the twins, but he won't give up!" Penelo paused as the dress was dropped over her head, "He seems to think that Vaan has wandering eyes!"

"He does," Fran joined in, causing the others to turn their attention to her, "He has Balthier for a roll model, so if you have a problem with open relationships, you might want to make the first move."

"First move for what?"

"To either find something that will keep the little thief's attention," Fran cleared her throat, "or find someone with more … _compatible_ ideals."

"You mean leave him?" Penelo sounded horrified, "I couldn't do that, we've been together since we were kids, it would be like cutting off my left hand, sure it's useless most of the time, but occasionally I need it."

Ashe laughed at the analogy of Vaan with a left hand, "You can't tell me that Vaan would wander or anything like that, with what I can figure out, he just needs to grow up!"

"Do the male of the species ever grow up?" Penelo asked, giggling at Ashe's reasoning.

"Kupo! No male ever truly grows up," the little moogle handling the shoes joined in. "They just get better at being children."

* * *

"My hand still hurts you know," Balthier whined as he waited in the guest bedroom in the Palace with Basch.

The Judge simply laughed, he was meeting with the Imperial Jeweller to commission the wedding rings and his own nerves were beginning to manifest in little things he would do. That morning he spilled his morning tea down the front of his armour, which in turn soaked his leather undergarments, so he now sat in his regular uniform reserved for office work and instructing at the Akademy. Balthier took great delight in teasing his blood brother for his jitters, he had to get his fun some how.

The two men decided to send Vaan on some errands in town as his handwriting was nowhere near neat enough to help Larsa with the invitations; right now, Vaan was aiding Migelo with deliveries for the reception.

"So when does you guy from Archadia actually get here?" Balthier asked, rubbing his hand to emphasise his discomfort.

"Soon," Basch answered, looking out the window over the desert city, "And if you don't stop scratching at your hand I'll remove it." His leg jumped up and down as though he was awaiting the most important man in existence and his anxiety was getting the better of him.

The pirate placed his hand under his leg, "you and your damn traditions," he grumbled and joined in with the city-gazing, "Uh, Basch?"

"I see it," The men had spotted a patch of the sky shimmering and without much warning it shot out of sight, "that was them, I know."

"Al-Cid wanted to know if it would be possible to retrieve the ship without damaging it too much," Balthier reminded him, "it is a prototype and worth a lot of gil."

Basch gritted his teeth, "you can inform his grace that I will do what is necessary to take out the enemy. If he does not like it, he can bill me for the cost of the warship."

Balthier watched his friend, he felt it too; the Children of Landis had gone quiet, no intelligence had been gathered for them for nearly two weeks, but the shimmering sky that occasionally buzzed by Rabanastre reminded them that they were still around, waiting. "I wish they had a schedule for that, it would make tracking them easier."

The room grew silent, as it did with each reminder Johan decided to send the Judge Magister. Basch had not received another holographic message from the man who seemed familiar in some way, for that he was both grateful and worried. "I wonder what the bastard's playing at?" Basch growled, his leg jumping more aggressively than before.

"May he is building for something drastic," Balthier wisely suggested, "but what? He has already destroyed the Archadian senate, what is next? The Rozzarian Summer Palace?"

"I believe he wants me," Basch admitted, "he has only attacked those who are directly associated with me." He gave Balthier a worried look, "What if he sends someone else after Ashelia or Larsa? I cannot protect both of them at the same time."

"Look," the pirate leaned closer to the Judge, "If the prick attacks it will be in the same fashion as the Senate building, and you too, will be taken out, so no blame could be dropped on you."

Basch sent Balthier a dry expression, "Balthier, you know exactly what to say to make me feel better," his words laced with cynicism.

Balthier did not miss the sarcasm, "Then why would some refugee from Landis be after another displaced Landian?" he had a valid question.

The two contemplated the question, it truly did not make sense, "there has to be more to it than that."

Basch was ready to put his fist through the wall when a small, elderly man with thick glasses entered the room, "My apologies You're Honour," he humbly bowed to show his respect. He saw the men in an agitated state, "I can come back later, if you need to settle something." He began to retreat.

"No need, Mr. Grahn," Basch put his hand up to halt the man's departure, "just some pre-marital anxiety."

The gentleman chuckled and pulled out his note pad, "I remember my wedding to my dear Lissia, I fainted half way through the ceremony." He sat across from Basch, near a small table. "So, young man, what can I make for you?"

"I need you to recreate two traditional Landian wedding rings," The Judge's tone was to the point.

The elderly Mr. Grahn looked up with curiosity, "an odd request, do you have Landian ancestry?" he studied Basch properly now, "oh of coarse you do, I mean look at you! The son of the famous Ulrich Fon Ronsenburg and the beautiful Judge Valdar Gabranth; you know your aunt is a regular customer of mine even now?"

Balthier had the distinct feeling that the old man made Basch uncomfortable, "What does the Landian wedding ring look like?" he asked to distract the man from his ramblings.

"Ah, the most beautiful rings you would ever lay your eyes on, sir," the man said, "two delicately carved dragons, one silver, one gold, entwined with their claws grasping. Their eyes are fire crystals chips, to denote the passion felt between the couple, the dragons are a symbol of strength; yes, they are truly the most beautiful wedding rings in existence. Even the Rozzarian ruby rings have nothing on the twin dragons." He scribbled down the order, "Do you have you lady's ring size?"

Basch handed the man her old wedding ring, after all these years, she still could not part with it, if she knew that Basch had 'borrowed' it for the day, she would kill him. "I will need that ring back right away."

"Yes, you're Honour," he added the queen's size to the notes and too out his sizing chart for Basch's size, "Now your turn." Basch held out his hand and the man slipped the wooden sheet with various sized holes down on his finger, trying the large sizes first to avoid any digits being stuck. "Well, well my son, you have the hands of a warrior."

With their business completed, Basch walked the elderly man to the door, "Can they be completed within two weeks?" he asked cautiously.

"One week should do it," the man laughed, "I may not be young anymore, but I have plenty of apprentices who can aide me." The man left quietly.

"I'm no longer jealous of you marrying Ashe," Balthier said from behind him.

"Oh?" Basch turned to look at him, crossing his arms across his chest.

"No," the pirate leaned back in his chair, placing his feet on the small table, "I'm jealous of Ashe marrying you! No man could live up to you when it comes to romance, so I might as well give up and join the other team while I'm still gorgeous."

Basch laughed, "Balthier, if I decided to swing the other way, you will be the first I would call."

"Oh!" Balthier waved his hand in a camp way, "you tease, Gabranth."

The men laughed heartily.

* * *

"Ssshhh!" Fran uttered to Penelo as they entered Balthier's room.

"Why do we need to get his key?" the dancer asked quietly, "Don't you have one?"

"The Strahl needs two keys to fly," the Viera informed her, "so to prevent exactly what we are about to do."

"Sneaking off with his pride and joy?"

"Yes," Fran smiled to herself, "but I don't think he will mind too much."

"Why is that?"

"I wrote him a note," she held up a scrap of paper with the short explanation on where they were going, "He won't want to follow."

"Oh?" Penelo's curiosity taking hold, "and why would that be?"

Fran crept closer, her Viera eyes seeing through the night with the same clarity as Humes did during the day. The odd-looking key lay on the bedside table, just under the lamp; Fran carefully lifted the key and motioned for the two of them to leave the room. "The reason why Balthier won't follow us is the fact he worked there for a couple of months before we took the Strahl back."

They made it to the hall, "why is he worried about going back?"

"You'll see why," Fran smirked, "We must hurry, in case Balthier wakes.

"Where's Ashe?" Penelo asked as they began to run down the hall.

"She's already in the Strahl, waiting," they skidded around the corner, the marble floor newly polished. "She's probably gearing up the 'in flight' entertainment."

"What's the 'in flight' entertainment?" Penelo huffed, her breath quickly escaping her.

"Shots of Cactoid spirits and the most twisted music you can imagine."

The pirate pair left the Palace in a not so dignified way, the Palace guard just nodding to the running women as they passed. For the last month, things had become more than crazy; children in the royal household quickly cheered everyone in the kitchens, who had begun to create the confectionary that had Ashe and her brothers begging for more when they were young. The Palace felt happy once more, not since before the plague had the Royal residence experienced such joy echoing down the cavernous halls.

The girls arrived at the aerodrome, out of breath and giggling. Apart from the security guards, the place was deserted, giving the building an eerie, haunted feeling.

"Hurry up!" Ashe called from the hatch, "this booze won't drink itself!"

"Should we be drinking and flying at the same time?" Penelo asked, "I mean isn't that dangerous?"

"Fran sighed, "she's right Ashe; we'll have to wait until we get to Rozzaria."

"But that's ten hours at least!" Ashe whined, "I don't want to be sober for all that time!"

Fran and Penelo sat in the pilot and navigator's seats, taking the Strahl out into the night sky.

* * *

Balthier awoke to find a note in place of his key:

_Dearest Balthier, taking your baby out for a spin to Pecador Placer, you remember that place, don't you? Be back by the wedding …Promise._

The pirate sighed, "Bloody Fran and her little adventure!" he rolled over and tried to get back to sleep.

* * *

"I refuse to listen to any more of your dirty conversation!" Penelo shrieked, plugging her ears with her fingers and squeezing her eyes shut.

"Poor girl," Ashe sighed, "I bet Vaan couldn't get her to scream unless he trod on her toe."

Fran smiled and looked out the window, "We're here," she threw a mischievous grin back at the young queen, "We have a table reserved for breakfast at the hotel." She pulled Penelo's hand away from her ear and repeated what she said.

"So no more disgusting talk from either of you?" Penelo queried, almost telling them.

"Not until tonight," Ashe said, drawing a cross over her heart, "Promise."

* * *

Tal had aided Balthier in preparing Basch's night, the completely underwhelming bachelor party they had ever been privy to. A private room around the back of the Sandsea had been prepared with modest decorations and a bottle of _non_-alcoholic sparkling white wine, Tomaj was grateful that they chose to have their 'wild' party out the back where no-one would disturb them. In truth, Tomaj was ashamed, the Sandsea had been the traditional location for every bachelor party since it opened nearly three hundred years ago; a legend had grown around the riotous celebrations, saying that if a groom did not have a wild and uninhibited time, the marriage would be doomed.

However, Basch was the groom, and a Judge Magister, so there would be no arguing with him. Tomaj had the Sandsea chef cook a delicious meal and the tavern's own band of moogles played their strings; the night looked more like a family gathering. With a sigh, he turned to his friend Vaan, "Please tell me that something _fun_ will eventually happen tonight," Tomaj begged rather than asked.

"Don't worry, I have a few things planned for our friend," Vaan grinned, "After all he's been through, he deserves it."

They heard Tal, Balthier, Larsa and Basch enter the hallway, "Well you had better pick up the pace my friend, the guest of honour is here," Tomaj pointed towards the door, "quickly!"

Vaan raced out of the room and turned towards the emergency exit, narrowly escaping detection from the others.

Tal laughed at the joke Balthier had just told, though Basch simply shook his head, "I wish I'd said no dirty jokes," he uttered to himself.

Larsa simply giggled, just letting the men forget he was there. If he made his presence too conspicuous, they might clean up the conversation, which a teen boy like him would not want.

"Basch, I am sure Ashe wouldn't mind if you got drunk or had a stripper," Tal tried to sway the Magister's mind, "It is traditional."

"I know for a fact the girls are not so restrictive in their choice of the evening's entertainment," Balthier chirped, "with Fran at the helm, one can only wonder what will happen for them tonight." He waited for Basch's reaction, but it was Tal who spoke first.

"So what has my lovely Lady planned for her Majesty?" he asked as they entered the room. The Table was immaculate with fine bone china and silver cutlery, Tal was reminded of the annual galas the knights would hold with their partners, all regal in appearance to make the night special, he remembered the first time he took Fran to one, they made love in the training ground of the barracks while everyone toasted his promotion.

Balthier watched a secretive grin spread across Tal's face; "um … they are in Rozzaria this evening, in a city called Cuevas," he turned to see Basch now waiting for more information, "they are going to a club called Pecador Placer."

Basch paled, he knew the reputation of that club, the _all_ male staffed and their uniform was almost nonexistent. Tal laughed, "That's my Franny!"

The pirate sighed, seeing Basch now panicked expression, "Well I'm sure Ashelia will be miserable," he said in a not so convincing way, "Yes she will be pining for you the entire time."

* * *

Many miles to the southwest, the female trio entered the Pecador Placer; Penelo's eyes bulged with shock, Men, dozens of them, all sculpted and wearing just enough to cover their nudity. _Vaan would freak if he ever saw this!_ She thought as a tall, tanned brunette walked by them, her eyes followed as he waited on a table of Seeq women. They had no shame as they openly groped him. "It's like rolls are reversed here!"

"You men the way they should be," Ashe grinned, "Though, I've seen better bodies."

"Not all of us can be lucky enough to land a man like Basch," Fran chuckled, not wasting any time as she slapped another man on his behind, "find us a table near the stage, would you sweet-cheeks?" Penelo laughed at Fran's behaviour, so out of the ordinary, "that's a good boy." She slipped him a pouch of gil as he lead them to a table off to the left of the main stage area.

The girls sat and nibbled on the complimentary nuts that sat next to an empty ashtray. Penelo still gazed around her, seeing men from all over Ivalice, not only Hume men, but Seeq, Bangaa and a few Moogles (Which she guessed were the pick of their species). She glanced back at Ashe and Fran, who, also, were looking around.

Fran turned back to Ashe; she had caught a strange, yet faint scent radiating from her, "Ashe, Are you feeling alright?" she asked over the music that played.

"Never better!" she answered.

Fran nodded, "I'll get us some drinks, make sure Penelo doesn't drown from drooling!"

Ashe checked their blond friend, she watched a blond man with green eyes gyrating his good in the face of a Rozzarian woman, who fanned her reddening face with her hands. Ashe laughed as Penelo looked back, "Okay, you win, he's HOT!" she cried.

Over at the Bar, Fran stood waiting to be served; her nose caught a similar scent to the one Ashe had about her, the strange sweet smell which made no sense to her. She scanned the surrounding are for the source of the aroma, a woman in the middle of a whole group of women seemed to be the source. Fran wandered closer to see what was so special about her. Her eyes lit up when she saw the woman's stomach; it was large and swollen. It made sense to her, Ashe must be pregnant, and there could be no other reason for it. She went back to the bar and ordered the drinks, _Ashe will be dry this evening,_ Fran thought, _Now how to tell her?_

* * *

Basch and the others had finished their meal; Vaan had arrived late with a mischievous grin, which remained on his face the entire night. Finally, Tal broke the silence, "What the hell are you grinning at, boy?"

Before the thief could answer, Balthier clipped him around the ear; "You did it, didn't you!" the others just looked on, confused.

"What are you talking about?" Basch asked, watching the interplay between the master and the apprentice.

Balthier got up and left the room without a word, a moment later, he returned with an attractive young woman, "… and make sure you show him what it means to be a man," the pirate explained to the girl, dropping a large pouch of gil in her hands.

She grinned and grabbed Vaan's hand, "Plans have changed cutie," she said as she led the confused boy out.

"What was that all about?" Basch asked, hoping he would get an answer this time.

"Brainless had organised some unwanted entertainment for you," Balthier informed him, pulling out a deck of cards and shuffling them, "So he will now get an education … although, from what Fran has told me, this will be more for Penelo rather than Vaan."

He dealt out the cards, "Ah," Tal grinned with a nod, "he's a late starter."

"No, just useless," Balthier filled in, "The poor girl has no clue what Vaan is expected to do, If this was four years ago, I would have gladly volunteered to educate her."

Basch chuckled, "Vaan will have no idea what's hit him," the Judge picked up his cards, "if that is who I believe she is, he might be too scared to even think about touching another female for some time."

"Serves the little bugger right."

* * *

Fran returned to the table with the drinks, "Here you go ladies," she placed each beverage in the right places.

"Ah, Fran?" Ashe asked, "I believe I ordered the succulent rum."

Fran sat next to the Queen, "Ashe, you can't drink right now."

"And why is that?" Ashe asked, getting more irritated by the second, her arms crossed in a menacing fashion.

"Are you sure you feel alright?" Fran asked again, "no bouts of nausea or anything?"

"Well I do have his urge to throw my drink at you right now, does that count?" Ashe was now glaring at her friend.

"Ashe," Fran took a deep breath, "I believe you could be pregnant." Fran waited for the drink to cover her, but it never came, Ashe laughed.

"You have got to be kidding me," she giggled, "Nice one Fran; you really had me going there."

"Ashe I'm serious!" Fran argued, "No alcohol tonight, I don't think Basch would ever forgive me if he knew what I do and still let you partake in a beverage or two."

The grin on Ashe's face dropped, "How could this happen?" she seemed to ask herself, "I took precautions."

"Perhaps this was meant to be," Fran now smiled, "Basch will be overjoyed."

Ashe thought for a short time, slowly her smile returned, "He will won't he," she laughed again, "Great Faram's Light! I'm going to be a mother."

Her disbelieving laugh catching Penelo's attention, she ripped her gaze away from the men on stage, "Huh? What's going on?"

* * *

I hope it was worth the wait.


	14. Chapter 14: Born To Love You

For those who are interested, I named this chapter after one of the most romantic love songs I have ever heard, From the _Made In Heaven_ Album from Queen, track five (I think) _I was born to love you_. And once my beloved gets his divorce I plan to use the same song for either my wedding march or first dance. Anyway, I believed the song suited what I perceive Basch feels for Ashe, it is a truly beautiful song, the best fairy tale romantic love song ever!

* * *

Chapter 14: Born to Love You

The sun peaked through the curtains of the guest suite in the palace; it slowly crept across the floor, settling of Basch's face, the heat of the rays waking the sleeping Judge softly. He groaned with satisfaction, it was the most restful sleep he had ever had, which was surprising as he was to be married later that day. Basch opened his eyes then; the thought of Ashelia being his wife in just a few short hours sent shockwaves through to his extremities.

"Ah, I wondered when you would wake," Balthier entered with several large boxes.

"What time is it?" Basch asked, stretching as he sat up, the sheet that covered him falling away, exposing his bare chest to the warming sun.

"It is nearly nine," the pirate smirked, "you really have no idea do you?"

"About what?"

Balthier laughed, "You didn't notice the attention of the girls during our exploits to save Ivalice."

"Should I have?" Basch stood now, wearing nothing, not that he cared; he was heading to the En Suite and showering.

Balthier had to look away, "You can make a leading man feel inadequate."

The groom stopped, looking toward Balthier, "Are you talking about my genitalia again?" he asked dryly.

"Even in your emaciated state in Nalbina, Fran couldn't stop looking at you," the pirate explained, his annoyance not lost on the Judge, "you can't have missed her blatant ogling of your body!"

Basch laughed, "I must have missed it," he continued to his shower, which called more than before. He wiped the faint film of sweat from his face, "Balthier, where is my face?"

The Pirate smiled, "I shaved you while you slept," he said calmly, "as a present for Ashe; so she won't get any 'carpet burn' on her wedding night."

"She likes my beard," Basch grumbled, "she likes the way it feels." He raised his eyebrow to translate the true meaning.

"Oh," Balthier nodded, "I understand, it tickles her in the right way, sorry."

"I look like my brother now," Basch argued, "Ashe will kill both of us for that!"

"Look, I am truly sorry," Balthier shrugged, "nothing we can do about it now."

Basch now had a faint tint of red all over his body, "well you can explain it to Ashe when she sees the face of Noah rather than me." He stormed off to shower.

Balthier sat on the bed, "I wonder how long it will take him to notice the …"

"BALTHIER!"

"You like it?" Balthier could not help grinning.

Basch came back into the room, "What did you do!"

"I told you," he rolled his eyes in a way he knew would annoy the Judge, "I didn't want Ashe to get 'carpet burn'."

"Did you have to remove EVERYTHING?"

"What? You don't like it?" The Pirate smirked. "Anyway, it makes you look _bigger._"

"I don't need to look bigger," he angrily growled through his teeth, attempting to keep the information secret.

"Don't I know it," Balthier grumbled, "but this isn't for you, it's for Ashe and I believe she will like it."

* * *

Fran giggled with Penelo, "I can't believe she slept through that," the young blond chuckled. "But I guess casting stop on her at the same time helped to."

"If she get's angry," Fran said as she pulled out a Chronos Tear to use on the Queen, "it was Balthier's fault."

"Okay," Penelo chirped, "anything that Ashe hates, it's Balthier's fault."

"That's the spirit," she emptied the phial on the Queen.

Ashe yawned, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, "What time is it?"

"It's noon," Penelo answered, "so a few more hours and you'll be Mrs. Fon Ronsenburg!" the dancer excitedly bounced up and down on the spot.

"You know, technically, Basch will have to take my name," she sat up, stretching, "considering I am the Queen and he's just a Judge." She laughed then, "today, I marry Basch! The blond knight I dreamed about since I was a little girl!"

"You've loved him for that long?" Penelo asked, "That's so romantic!"

"I guess some people never get over their first crush," Fran smiled, "I know that feeling." Before anyone could ask whom that was, Fran walked back with a silk robe, "you need to bath before we dress you, Ashe."

"Yes," She leapt from the bed, wrapping the robe around her in a fluid motion and skipped to the shower.

Fran and Penelo began their duty of laying out Ashe's underwear, ready to dress her upon her return.

She screamed from the bathroom, "She saw it," Fran said as she laid out a white silk stocking.

A very red Ashe ducked her head around the door, "I'm bald!" she cried.

"No you're not," Penelo smiled, "you're hair is lovely."

"That's not what I mean," she hissed, her face deepening, "I'm bald … down there." She pointing down, indicating the area of complaint.

"It's Balthier's fault," Penelo spurted out, "It was his idea."

"Well if you see that pervert," she snarled, "Kick him where it hurts!" she slammed the door and continued with her shower.

"Wow," Penelo looked over to a smirking Fran, "She believed it."

"Yes, but we should warn him that he will be kicked in the balls for something he did not do," she sighed, "I guess everything must be in balance, so it will make up for things he got away with."

* * *

"I am so glad we have a few X-potions lying around," Balthier grumbled, pouring some of the healing liquid into his hand to ease the bruise that now formed on him eye. Basch had not liked the idea of Balthier doing things for Ashe's pleasure, he knew he had the Queen's heart but knowing that the pirate had gotten to her bed before he did made any comment that eluded to the subject sent Basch into a jealous rage. "I would have looked dreadful today."

Basch rolled his eyes, "Just be glad that I limited myself to hitting you the once," the naked Judge walked back towards the shower, "Why don't you do your job and collect my clothing, you will be dressing me once I'm out."

Balthier watched the bruise rapidly fade; he was going to kill Fran for her suggestion, "She'll probably blame me for what she done to Ashe too," he mumbled under his breath as he gathered Basch's underwear and Bridal Suit, laying them on the bed for the ceremonial dressing. The Dalmascans had a ritualistic view on social gatherings, he hoped that the baptisms for the children were not so complex, the last thing a baby needs is to start life with a painfully long day of priests and priestesses chanting and dunking the poor kid in icy cold water or worse in front of a gawking crowd of onlookers.

He breathed easier knowing Basch would be a while in the shower, he sat on the bench near the window. He opened the window, allowing the hot desert breeze drift in, not the best idea, as he too will need to bath before he dressed for the event, but the smell of the scorched sand had an appeasing quality to it that he could not understand. "Perhaps it was that smell that kept you here in the desert realm all those years ago," Balthier asked the absent Landian, "it must have felt exotic in contrast to the chilled winds of the far north."

"Who are you talking to?" Vaan asked, startling the meditating corsair.

Balthier looked at the young thief with amazement; his hair was askew, his lips pouting from what could only be described as fevered passion, his normally open vest was torn and his ballooned pants were not that much better. Was he walking with a limp? "Looks like you've been in a brawl," Balthier nearly chuckled, flicking the rest of his bottle of X-potion at him, "Can't have you passing out during the ceremony, save that for after once you have a few drinks in you."

Vaan barely caught the small phial of dark blue liquid, "she was fabulous," he stated boldly, referring to the wench he departed with the night before, "What time is it?"

"Time to tear you a new one if you pass out on me," Balthier began to force the young man out of his ruined clothing and pushed him towards the bathroom, "Basch will be out soon and if you cause us to be late, I'll skin you alive!"

Vaan sat on the edge of the large bath, glancing around the sandstone tiled En Suite, his eyes catching the fleshy silhouette of Basch from behind the foggy glass, he did not want to know what the Judge Magister was doing behind that glass, but, knowing Basch, he was being thorough, like everything else he does. Vaan shook his head, trying to rid the mental image he drew in his mind.

Basch stepped out of the shower, reaching for the towelling robe that waited for him, "Ah, you're back," he said to Vaan, who covered his eyes with his hands.

"Yeah, I need the shower," he shrugged, nonchalantly, "But I'll wait until you are done."

Basch would have laughed at the young man's reaction; it had not changed since the first communal bath the three men took together. Vaan covered his eyes once he noticed that Basch and Balthier were removing their clothing, he had peeked to see if they had finished their task of undressing and ventured into the water but found that they were conversing on the edge of the river Sogoht without a care who saw them. Vaan instantly felt intimidated by the mature men and began to wonder if they were more than friends; a thought that was squashed when he heard the cries of Ashe in Balthier's arms that night. Basch sighed and walked past the distraught young man and left for his dressing by Balthier.

Once he heard the door click, Vaan relaxed, knowing that Basch was now out of the room.

Balthier waited for Basch, hesitant of the Judge's mood, not wanting another punch in the face, he decided to keep everything as formal as possible.

"Alright," Basch stood near the bed where his clothing waited, "I'm ready now, Balthier." He sighed, running the towel over his hair, "I'm sorry I hit you, I guess I'm more nervous than I thought."

"Your nerves caused my nerves a whole lot of hurt, mister," Balthier said out of arm's reach, "I am sorry that I upset you and if I do so again, please talk before you swing." He waited for Basch to nod before stepping closer. Holding out the first item of clothing, Basch took it and slipped into the richly embroidered underwear; it was designed to be enticing to his bride and easy to remove by her.

"I hope she doesn't change her mind," Basch sighed quietly.

"She won't," Balthier reassured him, "I should know."

* * *

Ashe, Fran and Penelo all sat together as their breakfast was brought in, they had decided to eat before Ashe dressed. The trio laughed as they ate and plotted the revenge against Balthier for his dastardly plan to make Ashe bald where he had no business in being. "I swear, I'll knee him where it hurts when I see him next," Ashe chuckled as she sipped the juice in her cup.

"It would definitely make a memorable ceremony," Fran grinned, "I can see it now, you walking down the aisle and; '_Excuse me my dear, I'll only be a moment,_' then knee Balthier in the balls." The three of them laughed hard.

"You really aren't going to knee him are you?" Penelo asked, concerned for her friend, "I mean, he didn't harm you, did he?"

"No he didn't harm me," Ashe admitted, "but he over stepped the mark; he went where he was not welcome." She huffed, frustrated for a moment, "I really hope Basch does not mind. Though, I think my beloved would restore my honour."

"Anyway," Fran cut in, changing the subject, "speaking of your beloved, we have a gift for him." She handed Ashe a parcel, wrapped in brightly coloured paper.

"Why are you giving it to me?" the Queen asked, puzzled by package.

"Open it and find out," Fran replied, a smile gracing her face.

Ashe shrugged, feeling a little guilty for opening a gift intended for her husband to be. She opened the box that lay within the wrappings and discovered what Fran was talking about, one of the most beautiful, luxurious and naughty items of underwear Ashe had ever seen sat in the box. "This has to be illegal, look at it!" she pulled it out; a black velvet corset with white lace over top and not one bit of it would cover anything of importance.

"It's to go under your wedding dress," Fran explained, "So tonight when Basch consummates your marriage, he will find this little surprise. It should spice things up a bit." Fran winked, knowingly.

"It does look a little redundant," Ashe said, inspecting what she saw, "it looks like it would cover my waist and nothing else."

"That's right," Fran snickered, "I wouldn't want out favourite Judge getting frustrated with fiddly bits of lace to get to his gift."

Penelo rolled her eyes; they were talking about sex again. She knew that was the underlying fact about a wedding but did they have to talk about it again? Since the date had been moved up, the trio discussed little else. Even on their quest to restore Ashe to the thrown, the topic never rose to a frequent discussion point. Balthier tried but Fran would change the conversation to _Popular Weapons Magazine_ and what featured that month or _Magicks and Mayhem_ to talk about the latest spell available. However, Fran had changed since she and Tal became close again; she made Balthier seem like a naive teen boy.

The young dancer averted her eyes when Fran helped Ashe into the revealing item of clothing; she busied herself with collecting the other item of clothing to dress Ashe for that night.

* * *

"I don't want to wear that!" B.J. yelled at his great-aunt, "I'll look like a girl!"

"You will put it on now, young man, or so help me …" Ingra responded in kind, retrieving the maroon suit trimmed with Archadian lace, "You refused to help me with deciding for your outfit for today so shut it and put up with it! You're wearing it, even if I have to cast immobilise on you!"

Kestra giggled silently, she had sketched what she wanted to wear; a simple Archadian gown in blue, her favourite colour. She had refused Ashe's suggestion to confess that she could talk, believing that the twins talked enough for the entire family, considerably so when the Emperor is with them. She had slipped into the gown and fastened the numerous buttons up her back without aide, her matching shoes were simple to fit, her feet nearly the same size as her aunt's. Over the last month, Kestra had a growth spurt, gaining nearly a full three inches, making her height equal to the twins, maybe a little taller.

"IMMOBILISE!" Ingra shouted, pointing her finger at B.J. who stopped in his tracks, "Now, mister, you will behave or I'll get one of these nice Dalmascan guards to put you in a cell for the night. Do you want that?"

The boy sniffed, rubbing his running nose on his sleeve, "No," he finally whispered.

"Good," Ingra began to dress the child, roughly. "Your father would be greatly disappointed with you if he knew what you were behaving like." B.J. began to cry, but Ingra had no time for delays, she had spent the majority of that morning finding Ulrike and Valdar in the Bazaar, shopping. Since arriving in Rabanastre, the twins had done little else, unless it involved young Lord Larsa. _The poor boy_, Ingra would think, as she would watch him subtly panic as the girls approach.

Kestra reached for a small package she had received from Ashe, a necklace for the day, she and her sisters had received the items a week ago, when Ashe came to visit them. Kestra remembered the dream she had, is still having, the beastly man tracking her future mother. Normally, she would dismiss it as stress or something like that, but there was something else, something she could not put her finger on and that was the most vexing part of the dreams.

"No! You can't have it!" Ulrike screamed at her twin, "I was to wear the pink, you the purple!"

Valdar yanked the frock out of her sister's hands, "I wanted the pink, you wanted that weird purple colour, and you just can't admit you have crap taste in clothing!" Valdar retaliated heatedly.

"You lying little bi …" Ulrike began.

"Ulrike! Language!" Ingra cried from the next room, "I don't care what colour either of you choose, just get dressed or we will be late!" The girls silently challenged each other with deathly glares. "Just so you know, I like the purple over the pink."

"Fine," Ulrike grumbled, "I'll wear the purple, I'll look better in it, anyway."

Valdar picked up the pink dress, looking over at the purple, "No," she dropped the dress and picked up the other one, "I'll wear the purple, it matches my eyes."

Kestra left the room and wandered to the library as her sisters began to fight again.

* * *

Larsa guided a few of the kitchen staff up to his Judge's room; he knew that Balthier and Vaan would also be in there by now and that Tal would join them after his business with the Order hand been dealt with. Although Tal would not be a part of the Bridal Party, due to his position as the head of the Order of Dalmasca, he would still be close to the wedding ceremony, standing by his Queen's side in a symbolic gesture of protection. It is the right of the General to cut down the groom if he believes him to be deceitful or dishonourable towards the Queen in any way, as a prince consort is automatically given the title of Grand General and takes over the leadership of the Order upon completion of the uniting ritual.

The young emperor took the initiative to order sustenance for Basch and the others of the bridegroom's party, something with plenty of energy and not too messy. He knocked on the door with the three Seeq women with serving platters.

Balthier opened the door; he was already dressed in his formal garb, along with a silvery, embroidered sash that hung from his right shoulder over the midnight blue, pseudo-uniform of the Archadian Judges. "My Lord Larsa," the Pirate bowed formally, "I see you have brought us lunch."

"Is that food?" Asked Vaan, who was dressed similarly to Balthier, only he had put the sash on the wrong shoulder. Larsa shook his head, he did not know if Vaan did it on purpose or truly did not know, but Larsa corrected the sash anyway.

He motioned for the Seeq women t place the platters on the table and leave, which they did with a bow. "Not hungry Gabranth?" the Emperor asked, startling Basch from his quiet meditation.

"I do not know," he answered as best he could, "my stomach tingles as though hunger is the cause of my discomfort but I am not too sure."

Vaan did not wait for an invitation to eat; the young man was a ravenous beast when it came to food, something left over from his days in lowtown as a street orphan. Balthier snorted in disgust at Vaan's lack of grace and decorum, even in the most simple of activities.

Larsa retrieved a pastry from one of the platters and offered it to Basch, "you should eat; it will be a long time before you will have the opportunity to do so again."

With a sigh, he accepted the crescent shaped morsel; the peppery filling was a welcoming distraction from the anxiety he was battling at that moment. He ate the offering slowly, staring out the palace window towards the temple, where in a few short hours, he would finally marry his love, his soul mate.

The four men sat quietly, three of them watching the groom slowly eat. Larsa wondered what the moments before he married would be like, though he probably would either be fussing frantically to make sure everything would be perfect or be contemplating jumping out the Palace window to escape the life sentence. It would all depend on who would be the other at the altar. He was grateful that his intended would not be there at the wedding that evening as she would be still at the specialised boarding school all Rozzarian princesses attended until they were ready to marry.

Larsa jumped when he watched Basch leap to his feet, his face pale, and ran towards the en suite. The door slammed behind him, followed by a retching sound that, no doubtingly, was Basch, expelling the contents of his stomach. A few moments past before Basch came back out, looking flustered, "I think I will pass on anything else to eat for now," he explained, "I don't think I could handle it."

Balthier sighed, retrieving a glass of water for his friend, "You may want to brush your teeth again," he joked, lightening the depression Basch had fallen into, "I don't think that Ashe would like the taste of vomit at her wedding." With that, Basch dove out of the room again.

* * *

Fran and Penelo stood back, taking in Ashe's appearance; she truly looked like Queen. Everything was in place, right down to the smallest of diamond-encrusted combs for her hair. She looked down at the Engagement ring Basch had given her; she had not taken it off since he slid it onto her finger that perfect night in Landis. With a sigh, she slipped it off her finger and placed it on her dressing table, "I'm ready," she announced, turning to her two closest friends in the entire world, who were hurrying to dress themselves for the walk preceding Ashe's grand entrance to the temple.

A faint knock on her bedroom door caused Penelo to hop behind the screen. Ashe laughed, "Come in!"

The door opened and the Marquis Halim Ondore the IV entered, "My dearest niece," he greeted her, rushing to give her a kiss on the cheek, "you look absolutely stunning."

"Uncle Halim, I thought you could not make it!" she smiled, clasping her Uncle's hands with her own, "What changed your mind?"

"It would not have been a surprise if you knew I was coming," he smiled down at the young Queen, "You look like your mother when she married your father, only more beautiful. But just as happy."

Penelo emerged from behind the screen, fully dressed and nearly ready for the main event. Fran, in her Viera compliant dress, stood proudly in the shimmering, pearlescent slip with strategically, revealing voids that exposed the mocha skin beneath without being offensive to the prudish Archadian dignitaries. Penelo, also in the mother of pearl fabric, had a more Dalmascan fashioned dress, which resembled Ashe's first wedding dress.

The Marquis took in the three beauties before him, "Every man this eve will be dreaming of the three of you tonight," he offered his hand to his niece, "come, the carriage is waiting for you."

* * *

Basch had managed to keep his stomach in check during the ride to the temple, and now he stood in the entrance, waiting for the guests to sit and the priestess to take her place. Basch could do with a drink, a strong one; though he knew that no sooner it would hit his stomach it would return from whence it came in a violent fashion. He desperately brushed his teeth before leaving the Palace and prayed to all the gods to settle his stomach long enough to make it through the rest of the day without embarrassing himself or Ashe.

His Aunt had given him a reassuring kiss on the forehead before she too took her place with Basch's brood in the front row. The twins had settled their argument of which dress each should wear, Ulrike in the pink and Valdar in the purple. Kestra sat quietly with B.J. at her side, who still scowled at what he had to wear.

Tal was the last to enter with three selected captains to 'assist' his role in the ceremony. "You look ill, Basch," he stated quietly, so the other soldiers could not hear.

"Last minute nerves," Balthier explained to the General, "and here we are without the masterful healer, Penelo to settle them."

Tal laughed, "I am sure it will settle down nicely once her Majesty arrives," he slapped Basch on the arm, "Come, you are required in the temple as the Queen now approaches."

* * *

The royal carriage pulled up outside the temple, Ondore leapt out first, to assist the three women from the tall vehicle. The desert wind had cooled in the fading light, giving the air a refreshing quality that calmed Ashe. She tried desperately not to cry before arriving; fearing that the make-up she wore would run. Ashe looked up at the steepled roof of the temple, her heart jumped to her throat. "Ashelia, are you alright?" Ondore asked his niece, noticing her hesitance.

"Oh Faram," The petite queen cried, "What if he's not in there? What if he's changed his mind?"

"I doubt Basch would back out of this," Penelo reassured her, "He loves you."

Ashe shot a panicked look at Penelo and began to hyperventilate.

"Oh dear," Fran sighed, "It's alright Ashe … relax."

* * *

Basch stood quietly in front of the priestess, looking back over his shoulder, anxiously awaiting the arrival of his bride. "She'll be here," Balthier whispered in his ear, "Wild Saurians couldn't hold her back." Basch knew this, but it did not ease the acrobatics his stomach was performing at that moment.

"Doesn't stop her from being late," Basch moaned, his gloved hand fisting by his side, "She wasn't late for Rassler."

"So it can be the topic of your first marital fight," the pirate grinned, "however, I am sure you are not _that_ stupid to mention her dead husband on your wedding night."

"No," Basch looked at him with large worried eyes, catching a glimpse of Vaan picking his nose, "Vaan do you have to do that now?"

"What?" he looked up, shrugging off the comment.

Larsa giggled, looking back to the blond thief who really had his finger rammed in tight of his right nostril, "That looks really disgusting," he chuckled out, pointing his finger to draw extra attention to him.

Both Balthier and Basch sighed, indeed the Emperor was still childish at times, but the distraction was a welcome one, before they knew it, the witnesses silenced as a trumpet fanfare sounded the arrival of Ashelia B'nargin Dalmasca, Queen of the Desert Realm. Basch's heart thundered in his chest at the sight of his bride … _His Bride_ the beautiful Ashelia, daughter of Raminas, as she stands ready to walk to his side, her veil cascading over her bare shoulders and to the floor behind her.

Ashe felt his eyes on her; she watched as they glided over every curve of her body, she could not help smiling as he lingered over ample cleavage as it bulged out the top of the dress, she could see the longing in his eyes, the hunger as he licked his lips. The Marquis offered his arm to his niece, after a short wait, he nudged her into action; he understood her distraction, he remembered the looks they would send each other, when each believed the other was not looking all those years ago. He led her to the one man in all of Ivalice he trusted with her life, who earned his respect twice over.

Time stood still for Basch, as Ashelia gracefully walked towards him, her smile lighting the cathedral with her joy, he could not look away. Finally, after an eternity, his bride stood at his side, he gave his thanks to Ondore, as tradition dictated and held onto Ashe's delicate hands. "I see Balthier got to you too," she whispered with a cheeky grin.

"You don't mind it?" Basch asked, equally quiet.

Ashe's response was a soft chortle before she turned her attention towards the priestess. Basch found it difficult to concentrate on the ceremony; he continuously glanced at his bride; her angelic features appeared to glow a pale gold in the dusk light as though the gods were giving them their blessing.

Queen Ashelia and Judge Magister Gabranth took their vows and exchanged rings as the wedding ceremony dictated; not once did they take their eyes from each other. If anyone present doubted their love, those people would be blind as the royal couple both wept with joy as they vowed to do what it took to ensure a long and loving life together. When their lips finally met to seal their lives together the temple erupted with the roar of applause.

Penelo mopped her tears from her eyes with the silk handkerchief, she could not help it, even when Ashe had married Rassler, when she did not know Ashe personally, she still cried with joy for her. Weddings had that affect on her and she wondered if Vaan would ever take her to the altar; or would Larsa get his wish, when all hopes of marrying Vaan had died? Her tearful eyes fell on Vaan, who looked a bit bored with watching Basch kiss Ashe and was looking out the huge stained glass windows of historic scenes; out of the corner of her eye, she saw Larsa watching her.

With a smile and her final blessing, the priestess presented the newly married Queen and her Prince Consort to their public. They led the way out of the temple, followed by their bridal party.

"Does this give you any ideas?" Tal asked Fran as he came to her side to follow his friend and his Queen out.

"I had a feeling you would mention marriage again today," she smirked, looking at Tal.

"And?" he enquired hesitantly, reaching for her delicate hand with his.

"And I'm thinking," she replied, squeezing his hand gently, "let's just focus on today."

"Alright," he kissed her on the cheek as they left the temple.

* * *

Basch offered his hand to his wife, helping her onto the Chocobo drawn float. The first of the floats had already begun their tour of the city. The streets were lined with fiery torches, giving the twilight a golden glow. Dance, music and acting troops from all over Ivalice entertained the people with their own special talents. The slight chill to the air only heightened the experience; both Basch and Ashe knew that once the obligatory parade concluded, the street party would begin.

"How are you holding up?" the new Prince Consort asked his bride, kissing her hand.

"A little nervous," she replied, biting her lower lip.

Basch paused, "about what? It's not like we haven't done anything before." He gave her a mischievous wink.

"Yes," she giggled, "I know that, it's just … we're married now, you are my husband, it's like a dream come true."

Basch wrapped his arms around her, "I know exactly what you mean," he whispered into her ear, "I fell in love with you the first moment I saw you, the feisty teen princess who demanded her father's favourite knight to protect her." His lips brushed her ear, "It broke my heart when I let you go to Rassler that night before your wedding. I believed myself cursed for thought that, by rights, should have had me flogged."

Ashe sighed cheerfully, "You will have to act out those thought with me tonight," she seductively uttered in reply. "Let me decide whether I should flog you or not."

"My Lady," Basch raised an eyebrow, "I never took you for one who would dish out such harsh punishment for a man's fantasies." He lowered his mouth to the crook of her neck and began to nibble gently. Ashe melted at his attention, her head moving aside to allow him more access, however, before Basch could bet carried away; their float began to move. Basch pulled away with a groan, he had to wait several more hours before he could claim his wife, so he had to settle for dancing and holding hands.

Rozzaria's best pyrotechnicians prepared a regal fireworks display as the southern Empire's gift to the newly weds, lighting the sky to the point of daylight. The bangs and whistles of each decorative explosion showered the crowd with bright colours as they danced and cheered.

Ashe waved enthusiastically to everyone, trying to instil her happiness on everyone she saw; Basch held her hand and waved in a more sedate manner. He could not keep his eyes from his new bride, who beamed joy to her people. Basch was happy, truly happy for the first time in his whole life, everything felt right.

The evening progressed smoothly, the floats pulled up outside the palace, where all the guest waited for the nuptials to arrive. With petals from various desert flowers, the guests showered Ashe and Basch as they made their way into the Grand hall. The feasting began with a blend of the spicy Dalmascan cuisine and the rich and indulgent Archadian.

The speeches followed the feast, and to everybody's surprise, Balthier did not crack any jokes or innuendos, instead, he gave a heart felt and admiring speech that still successfully hid Basch's true identity. He also tactfully washed over the past that he and Ashe had, making her sound like a traditional prim and proper princess.

Larsa, on the other hand, took great delight in teasing Basch about the long hours his Judge would spend, pining for her Majesty when he though he was alone. Basch showed only the faintest of an embarrassed flush but quickly recovered with a squeeze from Ashe's delicate hand on his knee.

The world faded again, lost in her eyes, the speeches vanished into another realm and only Ashe's smiling face existed to him. He knew that it was the thought of her and the hope that Ondore was wrong that kept him alive in Nalbina, the prospect that one day, he would hold her in his arms and finally confess the love he felt for her. He remembered the guilty desire that she would not recover her birthright so he could take her as his wife and raise a family. _Well_, he thought, _it all worked out in the end_.

A tap on his shoulder tore him from his beautiful distraction, "My Lord," Ondore whispered, "It is your turn to speak."

He was caught off guard, "ah …" he replied anxiously, "All right." He stood, reluctantly letting go of Ashe and rubbing his hands on his thighs, "yes … um."

Everyone chuckled, the man who would lead the Order of Dalmasca into Battle, the hero who helped slay Vayne by their Queen's side looked scared.

Basch took several calming breaths, the speech he had forgotten to prepare for was upon him and he had to improvise. He dared not to look to Ashe for reassurance, lest he fall back into her eyes. One final deep breath, he was as ready as he could be. "Ladies, Gentleman, Honoured Guests," he began, smiling to everyone in turn, "I cannot express how happy I am, that we are," he shot a loving glance to his new wife, "to have you all here to celebrate such a joyous event. To those who do not know, Lady Ashelia and I fought together to save this world of ours on more than one occasion. We have each saved one another's lives countless times and during those harsh trials, I fell in love with her. Although, I do suspect that those feelings were seeded at first sight." He stole another glance to Ashe, who was blushing with a huge smile, looking up to her husband; she gave him a single nod to agree that he felt the same. "I know that our nations have not always been the best of friends and with a global changing of the guard currently sweeping across Ivalice, I hope that with such change that our new era of peace will only grow stronger. Although, I do not wish any harm to come to either of you, Emperor Mathias, Marquis Ondore as I know you are both men of peace and will fight to keep it. As this is the first political marriage between Archadia and Dalmasca in forty years, I do not need to stress to you … my wife," he smiled down to Ashe again, reaching for her hand, "that our duty to this Kingdom and to the Archadian Empire to produce an heir as soon as possible. I have secured stamina potions and various other item we may require to help ensure our success tonight." Everyone laughed with a few wolf whistles blown from around the room, Ashe's face deepened in hue and her attempt to hide behind her fan failed, miserably. Basch could not believe he said it out loud, however, his brain refused to give him anything else, so he decided to wrap it up, "I do hope everyone prays to the gods for our long and happy lives together," he lifted Ashe's hand to his lips, "I know I will," he added, whispering only to her.

Everyone applauded and moved to the dance floor, Ashe rose from her seat, "A little revealing, don't you think?" she berated, playfully, "Stamina potions? Other items? Should I be worried?" she asked incredulously.

Basch laughed softly, "Nothing you couldn't handle," he quipped.

They joined the other dancers in a slow waltz like motion around the floor.

* * *

Later that night, Balthier stood at the edge of the dancing crowd; his eyes never leaving Ashe, his heart ached knowing she was beyond reach now, not that she ever was in reach to begin with. A Sky-Pirate would never be permitted to marry royalty of any rank, not since he rejected his life of the gentry to escape his quixotic father. He sipped at his champagne flute, wishing the alcohol would drown everything he was feeling.

The smiles on the faces of the Queen and her new Prince Consort felt like a blade to his gut, and at that moment, he wished his duties to Basch were over.

"I believe you and I have the same thoughts, my friend," the distinct Rozzarian accent of Al-Cid purred into Balthier's ear.

"Don't you have a wife to dace with?" Balthier asked testily, folding his arms across his chest.

"Why do you think I'm here talking to you?" the prince smiled, "would you willingly stay by a screeching Harpy as she attacks your manhood?"

"I suppose not," the pirate sighed, "Not all of us are as fortunate as our dear Judge Magister."

"If only I kept it in my pants, this would be my wedding day," Al-Cid spat bitterly.

Balthier laughed, "No it wouldn't," he turned to focus on the prince, "Ashe would have waited and we would be having this conversation anyway."

Al-Cid huffed; he knew Balthier was right, "the Dalmascan Queen is a witch and a thief; bewitching and stealing men's hearts with a smile."

"Her kisses are sin itself," Balthier added.

"You lucky son of a bitch," Al-Cid shook his head, "to taste those lips, even just once, would be worth selling my soul." They looked back to the royal couple, still dancing, enraptured in each others' eyes; Fran and Tal danced close by, equally entranced. "I will never feel that way with anyone."

A mischievous grin grew across the pirate's face, "I'll dance with you," he offered sarcastically.

Al-Cid laughed, "Yes, I see that you will need a new partner in crime soon. I doubt the General there will let Fran go again. So I offer my services to you, I am skilled with the blades and have no reason to remain on this side of the law."

"Oh?" Balthier spotted a heavily pregnant, Rozzarian beauty with a dark red face, yelling something in Rozzarian as she walked towards the handsome duo. "So she's not reason enough to stay?"

Al-Cid shot around to see his wife fuming and insulting him, "Nope."

* * *

Larsa searched for Penelo, he wanted to dance with her before he did his speech on behalf of Archadia. He had foregone the champagne flute, as the gloves he wore could not grip it sufficiently. The young Emperor had worked hard on his appearance for the day, trying to look like the man he felt he was. He finally found her, trying to convince Vaan to dance; the boy smiled to himself, Vaan really did not like dancing.

"Vaan!" Penelo cried, "You promised that you would dance with me tonight!"

"No," Vaan protested, "_you_ promised that I would dance with you tonight!"

Larsa took the opportunity to cut in when two pairs of hands clutched his arms from behind. "Not dancing with anyone, My Lord?" one of Basch's twin nieces asked.

"It is impolite to abstain from joining the festivities at such an important diplomatic affair," the other added.

"I intend to dance with the Lady Penelo," he answered, shaking them off his arms, "I may dance with the two of you later." He went to walk away when they grasped him again.

"The Lady Penelo is currently occupied," Valdar informed him, pointing to a very angry looking Penelo and a beet-red Vaan stumbling around the dance floor. "She looks quite determined to dance with the blond idiot."

"Vaan is not an idiot," Larsa argued, "He is not accustomed to such extravagance." Larsa did not know why he was defending his rival. It was true that Vaan had grown up on the streets of Rabanastre and it took a lot of control for him not to pick the pockets of the other guests. Larsa could respect that kind of control.

"Neither are we," Ulrike chirped, slipping her hand into his, "But we adapted." She gave him a smile that looked a lot like one of her father's smiles, meaning Noah, an honest smile with the hint that something more sinister laid behind it.

Valdar also gave him that smile, only more calculating. "Although," the elder of the twins grinned, "there are some of us lucky enough to be born with grandeur in our veins and adapting to such an opulent life style is only natural." She grasped Larsa's other hand, "I would be honoured to dance with you my lord," she gave a demure bow and pushed her sister out of the way.

Larsa gulped, he had no intention to dance with either of the twins, especially not now. He shot a panicked glance to Penelo, whom still argued with Vaan and did not see his pleas. Larsa's body involuntarily went rigid; his arms and legs refusing to budge as though petrified by some unseen force. Valdar tried to push the young emperor into moving without success.

"Maybe he doesn't want to dance with you," Ulrike giggled at her sister's glare. "You are a little too pushy at times." Valdar stormed off, her face a perfect scarlet hue from her rage, slamming the grand entrance door on the way out, which was not easy. Ulrike slid into her sister's former position in Larsa's arms, "Isn't this better?"

Larsa still did not move, his feet were refusing to budge, not that he wanted to upset both of the Judge's daughters; he just could not bring himself to dance with either of them. "I'm sorry, Ulrike," he apologised, "But I believe someone has cast Immobilise on me as a joke," he had a brilliant idea, "could you please send Penelo over to cure the ailment?"

Ulrike gave him a disbelieving look, "Okay, but you have to promise to dance with me tonight, first."

"I won't be dancing with anyone if you do not get Penelo to help me," Larsa pleaded convincingly.

"Fine," she conceded with a huff, leaving Larsa's side to get Penelo, who now was poking Vaan in the chest and lecturing him about their duty to their friends.

Larsa watched as the blond girl approached Penelo, he almost faltered in his impromptu ruse, but stopped himself. Penelo shot a look over to him; he gave her a guilty grin. She returned the smile and approached him. "Larsa?" she greeted him, "what is the matter?"

Ulrike waited with Vaan who now suffered a lecture from her.

"I just didn't want to dance with either Valdar or Ulrike," he confessed in a low voice, "they ambushed me and I had no other way out of it."

Penelo stifled a laugh, "all this to avoid dancing with a couple of girls who have a crush on you?" she watched him nod, ashamed of his immature attitude towards the two girls; it was no different to what he was like with Penelo.

"I must look like the biggest hypocrite in all of Ivalice," he grumbled, lowering his eyes.

"Yeah, you do," Penelo smirked, "But those girls are a hundred times worse than you ever would be." He looked up in surprise. "I appear to be lacking a dance partner," she continued, "and Ulrike seems to enjoy giving Vaan a hard time." She stepped into the teen's arms, "Shall we?"

* * *

With most of the traditional rituals out of the way, one remained, the ushering of the newly weds to their bedchamber. "This," Ondore began, standing next to his niece at the feasting table, "is an event nearly as old as time itself. From the days when the brides were forced to marry men, they did not love. As this technically is an arranged marriage … ladies and gentlemen, your assistance please."

Ashe giggled, feigning fear and ran for the door, the guests near her blocked her exit, crying a mock scream, and she ran towards another door. Basch took up the chase, pursuing his bride around the grand hall; he had been looking forward to this, it marked the end of the ceremonial day, when a man took his new wife to bed. He laughed, trying to snatch Ashe up in his arms as she ran from one end of the room to the other, the guests closing in on her. Ashe gave him a slight hope before ducking through his legs and sliding past several guests towards the balcony.

Again, she ran from Basch, laughing harder than before, Balthier cut off her escape, Al-Cid had made way for Basch to reach her, before she knew it, Ashe was surrounded with her new husband standing behind her. In a flash, Basch scooped her into his arms and hoisted her over his shoulder, carrying her out of the grand hall like a prized trophy. Everyone cheered, following the nuptials out into hall, like a huge mob of body guards, ensuring Ashe would not escape.

Turn after turn, the crowd lead them to the Queen's bedchamber, cheering and jeering lewd suggestions for Basch that night. All through this, Ashe could not stop giggling; soon she would be alone with her husband, in his arms in their bed.

Someone up ahead opened the doors to their bedroom suite. Basch carried her still in a barbaric way and threw her down on the bed, a final cheer erupted before the door closed and they were left on their own.

* * *

Another load of boxes from Dr. Themba balanced precariously in Zargabaath's arms, "I swear each day the paperwork gets bigger!" the Judge grumbled. The investigation had prevented him from attending Basch's wedding, which did not sit well with him. With a huff of frustration, he leaned the boxes against the wall next to his office door, pressing his body against the towering paperwork to sandwich it with the wall so he could reach for the doorknob. Finally succeeding with the difficult task, he, once again, lumbered into his office loaded with thousands of facts and speculation to be read and filed.

Unable to see in front of him, Zargabaath slowly stepped forward in the dark room, cautiously sliding his foot forward along the carpet, so he would not trip.

"Judge Magister?" a young Judge called from the door, startling Zargabaath, causing to spin around, not only dropping the boxes in his hands but knocking the existing pile on his desk to the floor.

"Damnit!" he cursed, surveying the mess now around his feet.

"I am so sorry, Sir," the young man quickly started to clear the mess at his superior's feet, "If I had known …."

"It is not your fault," Zargabaath sighed, stepping over the mess and slumping in his chair, "I am tired and grumpy and … I don't know, over worked?"

"Perhaps you need some time off, sir," the young judge suggested.

"The Empire needs me," his eyes settled on his inbox, "what's this?" he asked, lifting a file marked urgent in Gabranth's writing. His heart dropped to his stomach when he noticed the subject matter. "Thank you, uh … I'm sorry I don't remember your name."

"Dannel, Sir," The young man looked up from the stacking of the paperwork.

"Thank you, Dannel, you may leave now," Zargabaath heard the Judge leave as he opened the file. He was amazed that _Johan_, the leader of the Children of Landis, would contact Basch, or as Johan had called him, _Noah_, it puzzled the Judge immensely, until he saw the description and sketch of the man. "By the Gods!" Zargabaath took another look, studying the picture with a more critical eye, "This can't be!" But his eyes did not betray him, the man known as Johan resembled Judge Magister Gabranth to the point that they could be family, "How could you miss this, Gabranth?" His hair was the same colour as Basch's, his eyes were a little more blue, but the bone structure of his face; he must be family. He reread the file, finding new meaning in the words written there, this was not an organisation to bring the many nations down; this was an act of revenge in the most personal way. "Queen Ashelia's in trouble," he mumbled, a cold shiver possessed his body as the reality of the situation sunk in.

With a swift movement, he dropped the file and stepped over the papers on the floor. He locked the door behind him and ran to the aircraft hanger, taking the yet-to-be-tested ultra-sonic personal fighter the weapons division of Draklor had built and taking off as quickly as he could, the fear of not reaching Dalmasca in time running through his heard rather than the fear of the aircraft blowing up mid-flight. He pushed the throttle until it hit the instrument panel, sending Zargabaath into the night with a boom.

* * *

Johan lounged back in his command chair on the bridge of the Vengeance, his eyes closed in meditation. "What time is it?" he asked to no one in particular.

"It nears midnight, sir," the man covering the helm responded respectfully.

"Good," Johan smiled, "Soon my brother, you will have all torn away and Noah Fon Ronsenburg, you will beg for death."

Wolfram Adlersflügel stood by his master's side, as if he were an obedient dog, "you will free my wife tonight also?" the man pleaded, twisting his shirt in his hands.

"Yes," The broad blond man answered neutrally, "she will be free."

"Thank you, my lord," Wolfram stepped back, "Set course to Rabanastre, full speed!"

"I'm coming, Noah."

* * *

Hee hee the proverbial is about to hit the fan!


	15. Chapter 15: Shatter

Well, as promised for the end of March and delayed by family problems, the next chapter of With My Blood. I do hope it is worth the wait.

* * *

Chapter 15: Shatter.

Ilsa sat on her cot, listening to the fireworks outside; she had not moved all day, with exception of the walks around the holding yard each prisoner had each day. The celebrations sounded like a battle raging in the streets, only instead of crying and yelling, there was cheering and laughter; she was not use to such sounds, not for a happy event. Her time away from the Children of Landis gave her time to think, Johan's goals had become blurred; his promise to her and all those descended from the displaced Landians said that he would free the occupied country and give them a homeland. But now, the façade of his promises had fallen in her eyes, this quest for freedom was in fact a quest for revenge and anarchy, how could she have been mislead? Her husband had held a prominent position in the days when Landis was still autonomous, he would never speak of it to her or how it was possible for a man who looked so young could have been so powerful long ago.

The dry air of her cell tingled, like electricity dancing across her now marred skin. Ilsa opened her eyes to see what was happening; nothing. She figured it had something to do with the street parties outside, the celebrations for the woman she had been sent to kill; Queen Ashelia's wedding to the Archadian Judge that Johan ordered that nobody touch.

What she saw of the Judge, he was handsome, large but not fat, the type of man Ilsa would dream about in her youth, only he was pale. She sighed, how far away and long ago, her youth felt. Ilsa, who was not yet twenty had sacrificed her youth to a man who had ordered her to her death, though she did meet her Wolfram, the mysterious Landian man who stole her heart; "Will I ever see you again?" she asked quietly to the night, a tear slowly sliding down her cheek. She knew that if it were not for possible information she may have, she would not be breathing at that moment, Lady Ashe had been quite forceful about that. The irony did not escape Ilsa, the woman she had been sent to kill had saved her life. Ilsa knew that if she ever escaped the prison, she would take Wolfram away and make a new life with each other in Rozzaria, raise a family and try to forget the demon named Johan Fon Ronsenburg.

* * *

Ashe looked up at her husband, her breathing heavy from the exertion of evading Basch in the Grand Hall. She forcible slowed her breath, taking in the sight before her, Basch looked down to her, a subtle smile teasing his lips, his eyes filled with love and desire; how she could not refuse him?

"You look so beautiful tonight," he said breathlessly, not moving from his standing position.

Ashe rose from the bed and kissed Basch tenderly, her lips barely touching his, her fingertips tracing his jaw to his ear. Her tongue followed her lips, tasting the wine Basch sipped at the feast. He tasted better than before, both sweet and spicy and very addictive. Ashe attempted to kiss Basch properly, only to find her husband had beat her too it, threading his fingers into her satin hair and pulling her into a deep kiss that took her breath away.

"_I swear, with my blood, to forever love and protect you_," Basch whispered into Ashe's ear in Old Valendian, "_My sword arm will be at your beckoned call my Queen, my World, my Heart. She with the eyes of the gods, sublime; breath of the Eternal Wind._"

Queen Ashelia knew he spoke Old Valendian, and wished more than anything at that moment that she had paid more attention to her classes for the ancient language. "What did you say?" she asked, her voice trembling from her excitement.

"Hendricks's oath to Elfreda," he replied gently, his cheek pressed against hers, "When he first came into her service as nothing more than a man of the wilds."

Ashe felt a tear on her cheek, and for a moment, she thought it her own, however her eyes did not feel wet, "Basch?" she pulled away to see his eyes sparkling with unshed tears.

"I am the happiest man alive," he blinked, releasing the droplets of his tears. Ashe caught them with her thumbs, sweeping them away with a smile of pure joy on her lips.

"You and Hendrick have a lot in common," she murmured, "you both came from far off lands, both suffered from horrific loss and both fell in love with a Queen."

"But you will never be taken from me, nor will I die, leaving you with a child in your belly to raise alone," he kissed her again, his warm lips enveloping hers possessively, "I plan to be here for you and place many children within your womb."

_How right you are_, Ashe thought, almost laughing from the bliss she felt. Ashe let her finger tips roam over Basch's cheek, _Wow; Balthier did a really good job_.

Basch looked down into his wife's eyes, "I love you, more than I ever thought imaginable." Ashe gasped as she realised that he had removed all bar the lingerie Fran and Penelo had given her, "You are more beautiful than any woman who has ever lived." He captured her lips and possessed her tongue with his skilful mouth; Ashe surrendered to the pleasurable assault, her body igniting with passion. She ran her hands up Basch's chest, loosening the buttons as she went to expose the beautifully sculpted chest she could not resist.

He lowered Ashe back onto the bed, letting his mouth explore the soft flesh of her feminine body, taking one of the hard little buds that tipped her breasts into mouth and teasing it with his tongue. Ashe lost all control and surrendered to Basch's attentions, releasing a soft cry as he bit down gently. "Did I hurt you?" the Prince Consort asked, concerned that he had injured his bride on her wedding night.

"Only when you stopped," she smiled back at him, her eyes filled with passion. She did not wish to ruin a perfect moment with her new husband, but her nipples were so sensitive that she almost jumped out of her skin each time he touched them and in truth she wished he would move on and not take her moans as encouragement. With great relief, Basch trailed down her abdomen after removing the decorative corset, circling her navel with his skilled lips. Now Ashe truly groaned, knowing that Basch was so close to his unborn child sent an extra wave of pleasure through her, she knew she would have to tell him just not yet.

"I know you like most of the control when we are alone," Basch spoke suddenly, making the young bride jump, "But I wish to pleasure only you tonight … as my gift to you."

"Basch," Ashe began, "You have given me more than anyone ever deserves. You fought to free Dalmasca, even though the people were mislead by the deeds of your brother, you made sure that I would sit upon the desert throne to rule those same people without begrudging them. And best of all …" Ashe stopped. No she would wait until after their night of passion to tell him of his child, "You have given me a large family whom I can love like the one I lost so many years ago." _Nice save_, she thought to herself.

"You have no problem with most of the children being Noah's?" Basch asked, leaning on his elbow between her thighs.

"As far as Ivalice is concerned, they are Gabranth's children," she reached out for his hand, which Basch offered freely, "And now, Ivalice will see them as my children also, as will I. You are the only father they have known over the last few years, I just hope we can make them comfortable here in the Palace."

"Ulrike and Valdar are already comfortable," Basch chuckled, "B.J. is eyeing off the position of squire in the Order of Dalmasca already and I'm not sure what Kestra is feeling."

"She is happy," Ashe confessed to him, "she likes to spend her time walking through the gardens of the Palace, much like her father."

Basch blushed, "The gardens are so beautiful regardless of what time of year it is, however," he gave her a devious grin, "I am forcibly changing the subject. Not that I do not love my children or want any in the future, but I have within my sights ambrosia itself and I wish to taste the sweet nectar forming within." Ashe did not have time to protest as Basch pressed his smooth lips to her equally smooth sex. Everything was more sensitive than before and warmer, Basch's tongue danced around the heated and moist cove finding the treasure within.

Ashe nearly screamed as Basch quickly dragged her to pure bliss, yet he did not give her a chance to recover. To the Queen's astonishment, her pleasure quickly mounted again. Without fully recovering from the previous wave a new one crashed upon her, her body convulsing from the intensity. Basch still would not relent, burying his fingers deep inside her to heighten and strengthen the waves of orgasmic bliss that consumed Ashe by the minute.

As felt as though she were drunk or drugged as she no longer form a cohesive sentence, or word for that matter. Her head was spinning. Ashe grabbed the sheets of the bed, feeling as though she would fall off. How long Basch focused on his wife's sweet torture Ashe did not know, time meant nothing where she went, some plane of existence that only pleasure that bordered on something else entirely. This is what it must feel like to be one with the gods but the mortal body cannot handle such heights of joy.

Basch chuckled, ceasing the gentle torture of his beloved's body. Slowly Ashe returned to her right mind, the mattress under her soaked. Basch's face glistened with his efforts, his eyes sparkling with satisfaction, "Welcome back," he said with smug grin.

Ashe felt the bed cautiously, "I didn't do anything I shouldn't have, have I?" she asked fearfully.

"No," he replied, crawling over her, "But if I did not stop I would have drowned." He planted a delicate kiss on her lips and slid effortlessly into her soaked folds.

The young Queen gave a husky cry, her inner depths so tender that she reached another climax before Basch began to move.

The former Knight revelled in the joy he felt for his new wife, her muscles clamping around him with each trust. This is what it felt like to be so deeply in love, to wish to be joined in a lovers embrace until the end of time. Ashe's hoarse cries spurring him to move faster for her, he wanted to feel her hit her pinnacle with rapturous elation. Driving into her was nearly too much for the older groom, her latest wave ripping his own climax from his body with cry that matched his wife's perfectly. As the world slowly came back into focus and their heart beats returned to normal, Basch stared into Ashe's eyes, "I love you, my wife." He gave her several more kisses and pulled her into his arms to bask in each other's love.

* * *

Ilsa felt a shiver shoot up her spine, like the feeling from before only more intense. She opened her eyes to see Johan standing in front of her. "We have not forgotten you, Ilsa," his voice belying to something more sinister, "the mission you failed …"

"I promise I will not fail again," she collapsed at his feet, her brain saying that he is evil, but the fear for her life suppressed it.

Johan laughed, "No you won't," he wrapped his fingers around her delicate throat, "you will serve our cause as a martyr." Her eyes flashed open, the reality of his words sinking in, she wanted to refuse to scream for help, but it was of no use, he gripped her larynx and tore it from her neck. The blood spray coated the walls of the cell.

He let her lifeless body drop to the cold stone floor, "your sacrifice will not be forgotten," Johan smiled smugly before he teleported out of the cell. The lock on the door clicked to unlock the cell door for the routine check from the guards.

The blood still oozed from the horrific wound as the door swung open, hitting Ilsa's back. "Captain!" the guard called at the discovery, "Get the General!"

Another guard came in to see the problem, the sight nearly relieving him of his dinner. "I'll go," he muttered, covering his mouth and nose before running out to find Tal.

The remaining guard began to clear the surrounding cells and called in for extra help with the investigation. Three officers stood guard as they waited for General Azelas.

* * *

Fran was pinned beneath Tal, her legs wrapped around his waist and her claws digging into his back as he plunged into her with all of his being. She released a feral snarl as her pleasure mounted, her claws burying themselves under the General's skin. "Ah!" Tal cried, the pain shooting through every nerve along his back, "Fran that hurts!"

Not hearing his cries of pain, she howled out in ecstasy triggering Tal's own pinnacle of bliss despite the wounds on his back. "Tal! Again!" Fran screamed her voice thick with arousal.

His back now numb he persevered, hardening rapidly to continue are his mistress's pleasure, pumping his hips in hard as the way Fran likes it.

"General Azelas!" a soldier yelled as he bashed on the heavy wooden door. "You must come quickly! You are needed in the prison cells!"

Tal groaned, giving his lady an apologetic look. Fran smiled and retracted her claws from his back, "We will be there in a moment," she called out to the Knight on the other side of the door. "I'll heal your back, lover," she gave Tal a brief kiss to his cheek and whispered a strong healing spell. Tal felt the dull pain in his back slowly disappear until it felt as it did before.

Not concerned with his attire, Tal threw on his civilian clothes and raced to follow the officer with Fran running to catch up.

The commotion in the prison cells had Fran's hackles up, the faint smell of death hung in the air ominously. "Tal," she said quietly, "Someone has been killed, I can smell it."

The General knew she was right. They turned into the hall where the deceased lay in their cell and Tal saw whose cell it was, "Shit!" he cursed, speeding up to reach the scene.

Inside, just behind the door, Ilsa laid in a pool of her own blood, cold and lifeless. Fran stooped to inspect the body when one of the guards stopped her, "I won't touch anything," she promised. The guard nodded and Fran returned to what she was doing.

"Any ideas how the assailant entered?" Tal asked the man who first found her.

He shook his head, "The lock had not been touched and the window has heavy steel bars and is far too small for anyone bigger than a moogle to try pass through …"

"It was a hume male," Fran announced, "Tal, we need to get Gabranth."

Tal slumped visibly, "It's his wedding night …"

Fran flew to Tal's side, "the scent is too similar to his grace's to delay," she hastily whispered in his ear, "the killer has the Fon Ronsenburg scent, different enough to tell them apart yet similar enough to make them siblings."

The blood drained from the General's face, this was not good, if the killer was a relation to his friend than this could cause trouble for the newly wedded couple. The Dalmascan council had been opposed to the union from the beginning; they could use the evidence to forcibly annul the marriage and cause friction with the Archadians again. "I will get him and try to explain the situation," his gut twisted painfully. According to law, Basch now headed the order and any major situations would require his presence regardless of when they occur. One way or the other, Basch was being torn from his new wife's arms tonight.

With a resigned sigh he left for the royal bed chamber to ruin his Queen's wedding night.

* * *

Ashe traced small circles around Basch's nipple absentmindedly; her thought had turned to how she was to tell her beloved of the child they had created that currently resided in her womb.

"Something is on your mind," Basch stated, fighting the attentions of his wife, knowing that she did not do it to arouse him again so soon.

"Hm?" she responded, turning to look up to him. He was truly a beautiful hume, the many scars from decades of battle only enhancing his charm. She wondered if she had never been a born royalty, would they have still married? She liked to think so, their bond surpassed status in society and nothing would ever come between them, with the exception of a growing belly. "Basch, I have something important to tell you," she began.

This caught his attention, propping himself up on one elbow and cupping her cheek with his free hand, "is everything alright?"

Ashe smiled at his concern, "Most definitely," she took a deep breath.

A frantic knocking at the door broke their moment, Ashe sighed as Basch's head snapped around to the door, "One moment," he called out to the person at the door. "You were saying?"

Ashe shook her head, "Go see who that is first and I tell you after, it can wait." She gave him a small half hearted grin, "it's probably important."

Basch reached for a robe and answered the door, "Tal?" Basch was curious as to what would bring his friend to disturb his wedding night.

"My apologies Basch," he gave a ceremonial bow, "My lady, but we have a situation that cannot be ignored down in the prison cells."

Ashe pulled the covers protectively around her, "What has happened, General?"

"The assassin Ilsa Adlersflügel had been murdered," he explained, "Fran has inspected the body and … well I think it would be in both yours and the Queen's interest that you accompany me to the scene."

Basch looked over to his wife apologetically, "It's alright," she said sadly, "I'll tell you when you return from your duty."

Basch's expression changed from apologetic to one of curiosity and relief. He quickly dressed and followed the General out of the Palace. The now lonely Queen also dressed in something comfortable and sat at her dressing table, practicing how she would tell her husband of the gift of life growing within her.

* * *

The scene before Basch was truly gruesome, the blood drying and congealing in deeper puddles, Ilsa had not been moved. The flies associated with death had already begun laying eggs in her flesh, Basch was grateful that the heat of day was still hours away. "It looks like some kind of beast tore her throat out," the Prince consort commented, "A werewolf or something?"

Fran, who had been looking around the cell for more clues, answered him; "Nay, a man with a clawed glove." She held out a single blond hair, "This belongs to the killer." Basch took the hair; it was the same colour as his father's hair, darker than his own. "You recognise the shade," the Viera stated.

"It is the same colour as my father's hair," he informed her.

"The scent is also similar to yours," she continued, "your brother."

"Noah?" he asked almost pleading that she answered yes.

"No, his scent was identical to yours," she carefully stepped over the corpse and avoided the gelatinous blood pools surrounding it, "No this man is someone else."

"Impossible, my mother could not have any more children after my twin and I were born," Basch explained, "I had a sister who was a year older than I, but she died before we were born. He is not a half brother by any chance?"

"No," Fran could feel his frustrations, she knew both of Basch's parents, albeit briefly and she could scent both parents in the killer's scent. She laid her hand on his shoulder, "than we have more of a mystery to solve than we first thought."

"So it seems," Basch contemplated the evidence as he stared at the guards who began to move Ilsa's body, "So it seems."

* * *

Tal walked Basch back to the royal suite, "I do apologise for interrupting your wedding night," Tal gave Basch a shake of his hand.

"It was duty," Basch smiled in return, "Speaking of which …" he gave his friend a devious grin, "I have a duty to perform right now."

Tal chuckled, "Oh yes, the ever loyal Knight to the throne would never forsake his duty and obligations," he retorted sarcastically, "go, serve you Queen to the best of your ability."

"Again?" Basch feigned confusion and left the amused General to shake his head and move off in the opposite direction.

Basch walked the long, deserted halls of the palace to the one room he could not wait to return to. His mind burst with new ways to pleasure his bride, each one causing him to grow evermore excited. He rounded the last corner to see the two guards who were posted to their room were asleep on their feet; not too bothered by the lack of discipline, he moved past them carefully not to wake them, he figured they would be woken soon enough from Ashe's screams.

Closing the door behind him he turned to admire his beautiful wife awaiting his return, what he saw turned his blood to ice. "No," he uttered in disbelief, on the floor with glass eyes staring blankly at the ceiling Ashe lay covered with blood. "NO!" Not thinking clearly, he raced over to her lifeless body and pulled her into his arms, crying his anguish loudly to the rapidly cooling night.

Now covered with his beloved's blood, he did not know how long he held her before two men aggressively pulled him away from wife. He did not hear their words as they painfully pulled his arms around and twisting them up against his back, it was then he saw one of his swords covered with blood by Ashe's side. Alarmed, he looked up to see one of the newer council members barking orders for the room to be secured and to lock the _Archadian scumbag_ in the old dank dungeons below the Palace.

The world moved past quickly, Basch could not focus until he came to a stop in what felt like a small pool of stagnant water. His arm were hoisted above his head and chained to the wall, along with his neck and legs. The two guards hurled insults at him and spat in his face before leaving him alone in the dark.

* * *

It had all happened so fast, one minute he was dreaming up of ways to please his beloved Ashelia the next her was cradling her lifeless body in his arms. It was clear to him that the council believed he had murdered their Queen; it was why he now hung from the stone wall in the bowels of the Palace, his bloody sword being the only piece of evidence. It was enough to condemn him and possibly be enough to start a war with Archadia, one which could doom the small desert nation to the sands from which if grew.

Basch ached, more than his physical body throbbed his soul cried out for Ashelia, he wanted to be with her. The man's only comfort was that soon he would be executed and then he would once again be with his wife as the eternal winds carry their spirits to the halls of the ancestors.

* * *

"What is the meaning of this?" The young and sleepy Emperor demanded as several Knights of the Order marched into his quarters flanking a member of the council; a woman in her sixties.

She sneered down at the young man with distain in her eyes, "Your treachery has been a cruel one indeed," she spoke with as much venom as an angry viper would use when cornered.

"And what treachery would that be madam?" Larsa was in no mood to suffer this woman's presence for any longer than necessary.

"Arrest him," she barked, motioning for two of the Knights to apprehend him.

"It will be war!" he snarled as the men held him tightly between their large bodies.

"It already is war!" she informed him violently, "Your lapdog saw to that!"

Larsa seared with rage, "I have no idea what you speak of!"

She released a dark chuckle that only served to aggravate the young lord further, "Do you think us so naïve because we were not educated in Archadian Universities? It is you who are naïve!" she sneered, poking the young man in the chest with her pointy finger, "If you think you can just take over in this deceitful manner, you are sorely mistaken."

"I told you," he reiterated, frustrated by her disregard of his station, "I am clueless of which you speak."

Ignoring the Emperor she ordered him to be placed in the dungeons with his Judge Magister, this angered the Emperor, but he was powerless to do anything. He was dragged out into the hall where Penelo and Vaan attacked the guards, Penelo casting sleep on the guards so Larsa could slip from their grasp.

"Thank you," he said, hugging his two friends tightly. "What's wrong?" he asked Penelo, her eyes filled with tears.

"It's Ashe," she choked, "She's dead."

The events of his room now became clear; they believed he was responsible for their Queen's death. "How?" he asked, already suspecting what lay ahead.

"They think Basch killed her," the young thief replied, saving his friend the anger and grief.

"He wouldn't have done that," Penelo choked, "He loved her more than anything else in all of Ivalice!"

Larsa took a deep breath, letting the news sink in, "We must get his family away," he finally said resolutely, "they are no longer safe here."

"I couldn't agree more," Balthier added, carrying a sleeping B.J. in his arms, "Penelo, take the Strahl and take them home." Ingra tried to calm the girls as they became hysterical, "You had better go with them, Sire," he added, "I believe you are no longer welcome here."

"And what are you going to do?" Larsa asked.

"I," he smiled, handing the sleeping boy to him, "Will rescue our friend and join you later … Vaan, with me."

"Shouldn't I go with them?" The young man asked puzzled by the request. "Won't they need me to fly your ship?"

Balthier just rolled his eyes as Penelo answered, "I do know how to pilot her, Vaan," she gave him a week smile, "But you are the only one who can fly yours."

He stood thinking about what she said, "Don't hurt yourself," the Pirate chided him; "we don't have time to dally in the Palace halls. If I'm not mistaken, you and Penelo are now outlaws for aiding the enemy to escape and will be killed on sight."

It hit him what they had actually done, "oh, right," he gave his friend a hug, "see you in a few days, Pen." He and Balthier ran to the sewers for protection while Penelo led Basch's family to the Strahl with Larsa aiding her.

They followed the corridors towards a side exit that would get them to the aerodrome quickly, stopping only when a patrol would cross their path. Once they entered the aerodrome their escape became more problematic; a company of Knights of the Order of Dalmasca were stationed by every Archadian Vessel, including the Imperial Yacht Ultima. The Strahl, over near the back of the hander was no exception, four Knights stood around it.

"What do we do now?" Ingra asked Penelo and Larsa, "there is no way we can sneak past all those men and women, we'll be caught!"

"Can't we just leg it out of the city?" Ulrike suggested.

"There is a total lock down," Penelo replied, "we'll have to find a way past them."

Nobody noticed Kestra skulk away; she walked in the shadows with a fire mote in her hand something she had 'found' in her father's things. Unbeknownst to the girl, the cleaver mote not only had a timing device on it but burned with an acidic green flame designed to dissolve metal in a radius of several hundred metres. She stuck it on the office door and set the timer for five minutes allowing enough escape time to return to her family.

The timer counted to zero as she made it back with her cousins; the explosion threw them to the floor and the green flame accelerated towards them. "RUN!" Penelo shouted and they ran towards the Strahl as the Knights ran the other way.

Boarding as quickly as they could, Penelo seated herself behind the throttle with Larsa at her side. She saw the green flames consume the ship she and Vaan had worked on, "Shit," she cursed, "Well, I hope Balthier has a backup plan of escape." She did not dwell on the problem, if the flames hit the Strahl they would have to escape the old-fashioned way.

They lifted off, the flames within a hairs breadth of hitting the hull. Hitting the cloak to hide they departure, Penelo pushed the throttle forward in the direction of Landis as full speed.

* * *

Inside the Strahl's engine room, Nono frantically worked to make sure the engines did not over heat. Nono threw down his spanner and marched out to the cockpit, ready to yell (or rather squeak) his disapproval over the treatment of his precious engine.

He stopped in his tracks when he spied Penelo at the helm, "Where is Master Balthier?" he asked, clearly shocked by what he saw.

"He's rescuing Basch," Larsa explained, "he will meet up with us soon."

"Kupo! What has happened?" the little moogle asked. Larsa explained everything he could and all the poor moogle could do was stare in disbelief, "the sweet Queen dead?" he burst out crying. During their first adventure through Ivalice, before Nono met his mate, Ashe would massage his ears after a hard day's work to help him sleep, his mate Saccharine put a stop to it after they mated.

"Nono," Penelo addressed him seriously, "We need to get out of Dalmascan airspace as quickly as possible, you need to get back down there and keep that engine running for as long as possible."

* * *

Tal did not know what to think, everything about what he saw in front of him made no sense. His evening became terrifyingly worst when he was notified that Basch had been arrested with the murder of the Queen. What was worse was that Penelo and Vaan now have a warrant for their arrests for treason, helping Basch's family and the Emperor to escape. Balthier and his love, Fran were safe for now, not having anything against them … yet.

The council members seemed too comfortable with the events at the Palace this evening, the last few weeks had them growing evermore anxious yet tonight; with their sovereign dead and the kingdom in chaos they were almost happy.

"I came as soon as I heard!" Fran ran in through the door, out of breath and panting.

"You are not wanted here tonight, Viera," the overseeing councilman sneered.

Tal turned to the middle-aged man, who had only been appointed within the last few months (Faril was it?), "We will need _Fran_ here if we are to understand what happened," Tal could feel that he already wanted the man gone from his sights.

"We know what happened," the man snapped, "the Archadian Judge married our beloved Queen and slit her throat on their wedding night." Tal could see one of Basch's swords with blood on it.

"The Prince Consort was with me," Tal explained, "and the Queen was very much alive when we left here two hours ago."

"And when did the scum leave you to come back here?"

_Damn_, Tal thought. Basch had not stayed long with him, leaving a window of around twenty minutes from when Tal had left him in the hall way and to when Ashelia's death was discovered. Not wanting to give the irritating man the pleasure of having a point, Tal turned to Fran, who once again was doing her own investigation. "What have you found?" he asked with a chilling sense of déjà vu.

Fran looked up at the councilman who, no doubt, wanted her gone. He had already passed Judgement on their friend and would not be satisfied until Basch's head was on a pike for all to see. "There is nothing I could say that will change the verdict of the council," she uttered quietly.

Tal nodded in understanding. He turned his attention back to the arrogant councilman; "If we are no longer needed …" Tal purposely left the statement unfinished.

"Yes, go," he waved his hand to dismiss the General as though he were king.

Tal and Fran retreated quickly, once alone in one of the secluded courtyards Fran began to explain what she found, "He is a cleaver bastard," she hissed, "and I do not mean that snooty councilman."

"What do you mean?" Tal held her close, to disguise their conversation with appearance of a lover's embrace.

"The man from the cell, his scent is all over the body," she explained as she sucked on his earlobe, "And Ashe's scent is off."

"How so?" he groaned out, this may be a rouse but the affect on his body is still the same.

"The Queen's scent is identical to what it was when I first met her," Fran continued, "it does not make sense."

"I though scents did not change, so it would be natural that she smelled the same."

"The scent can be added to," she rubbed her leg up his thigh, clearly getting too enthusiastic about the deception, "the body was missing the added scent of the baby."

Tal's arousal died, "baby? Ashe was pregnant?"

"Is pregnant," she pulled back with a mischievous grin, "Ashe's scent was all over the weapon, she is the killer."

* * *

_Earlier ..._

Ashe sat at her dressing table, happy with what she had decided to say, "Basch, I have a gift for you, though in reality it is also your gift to me." She was pleased with it, she could see the Basch's expression already.

She involuntarily shivered; the strange electric tingle that danced across her skin filled her with dread.

"My my," a chillingly familiar voice greeted her, her own; "Don't we look radiant tonight."

She turned around to see what can only be described as a perverted imitation of her and Basch. Her doppelganger looked identical to her reflection only with cruel hard eyes; she looked like she could commit genocide and not think twice about it.

"I know what you are thinking, Ashelia," the tall broad man who looked similar to her husband Basch smiled evilly. "You're thinking how could I look so similar to the Judge Magister when the Kingslayer, his brother, is dead."

"Who are you?" she demanded, not taking her eyes of the pair as they stood in the centre of the room, looking every bit a regal as she did.

"Straight to the point," Johan chuckled, "I like that in a woman." His eyes trailed over her body greedily taking in every curve and delectable mounds. "It is a pity you have already been soiled by that treacherous brother of mine; Noah does not deserve such beauty."

_Noah?_ Ashe thought. "Your name sir!" she demanded once more.

"Not only forward but impatient," Her double added, "Tell her my sweet … though I do like to watch her squirm so do not tell her yet, I think I'm enjoying her discomfort."

"It is a shame that you will miss the discomfort I will give her later," he said, nuzzling his face into her neck, "But you get to tear the Empire's favourite son's heart out."

Ashe too the distraction to reach for one of Basch's swords, which he always kept close. She did not stop to think as to why he had left them behind when he went to the prison cells. "What are you planning to do with me?" she shouted, pointing the sword at the intruders.

"Ah, the warrior Queen is challenging us," Johan grinned, still nibbling on the woman's ear, "Eris, why don't you stop her, I always like to watch women fight, it stirs me into action."

The woman nodded and kissed him before turning to Ashe with a detached smile which told Ashe everything she needed to know, this woman was not only crazy but was fanatical. "You're that Johan I heard them talk about," she was careful not to mention Basch's name as Johan had called him Noah and did not want to give him anything he could use against him. "The leader of the Children of Landis!"

"Intelligent as well," he praised her, "Maybe you will be fitting to warm my bed during Eris's absence."

"Forget it," Ashe growled, "GUARDS!" she called loudly.

"They are, shall we say, sleeping on duty," Johan snickered, "you will be wanting to make an example of them, Eris, they are not the type of men you would want to protect you as you sleep."

Ashe felt sick, she was alone with the enemy of Ivalice and she had only one chance to escape and reach the safety of Basch's. She took a swing at Eris, slicing her throat open. A curtain of blood began to run down the front of her gown, a replica of Ashe's wedding dress and collapsed on the floor.

Unfortunately for Ashe, the sword was too heavy for her to wield with efficiency, her balance shifting and she fell, twisting painfully as the sword dragged her to the ground.

"Stupid girl," Johan said casually, as though the woman he had just been kissing did not lay on the floor dead, "oh well, so the plan has changed." He stepped around the body, placing a foot on the blade, "regardless of the plans, you are coming with me." He whispered a sleep spell and picked up the Queen, "you will be fun to break, so much spirit; I might even let you harm me." He kissed her lips as she lay unconscious in his arms. "Yes, this will do nicely."

He activated the transportation device and disappeared from the room as the door opened.

* * *

Carla sat watching the sleeping Queen. Johan had returned to tell him that the plan had changed and proceeded to strip Ashelia and place her in a simple garb of peasants. The Queen was now chained to the wall of her cell with immobilise, disable and silence cast upon her. She was not aware of this yet and Carla wished the monarch would remain asleep of some time. Carla had the task of caring for Ashe until such time Johan changes his mind, the Queen seemed more beautiful than Eris, yes, Johan had a Rozzarian mage cast a forbidden clone spell on the woman to make them indistinguishable, Ashe had this aura about her that spoke silently of her goodness.

The sun began to creep across the floor, Carla must have fallen asleep herself; she opened her eyes to see a pair of panicked ones staring at her. "You have probably figured out by now that you can't do anything," she spoke to Ashe, "I'm sorry but I can do nothing, not only would Johan literally kill me for doing anything he doesn't want to happen but I do not know how." Ashe's eyes turned sad, "If it's any consolation, I was against this, we were suppose to drive Archadia out of Landis not fulfil Johan's lust for vengeance." Carla fell silent, trying to find things to say to the Queen, she had no grudge against Dalmasca, the kingdom had taken many refugees after the invasion, her father being one of them. "You must be hungry." Carla left the room to get something for Ashe to eat.

The Queen was distraught. What chaos had descended on her kingdom, what of Basch? Her thought turned to the last moments they spent together, the promise of joyous news that he may not here now or ever learn about. Would she see her beloved husband again? She doubted it, the same cold feeling of defeat she felt all those years ago when she learned of her father's death and the lie of Basch involvement. How similar the situation was, Ashe once again was dead to her kingdom and Basch would wear the blame she just knew it. He was probably already executed at dawn, the realisation that was most likely a widow once more broke her heart. She wept, the tears quickly staining her cheeks with the small hope that she could save their unborn child before it is discovered.

* * *

I had considered making you all wait for the revelation of Ashe's survival but I was afraid you would mutiny.


	16. Chapter 16

_Oh hell, even I'm shocked at this update! Been working on some original stories and more fanfic that has yet to be posted. A bit of pointless trivial, I travelled several thousand kilometres whilst writing this chapter, you would think the change of scenery would have been great inspiration, it was, just like the Giza plains (both during the wet and dry). For such a dry country, Australia sure does know how to rain in the outback, bucket loads is nothing in comparison. I watched rivers form before my eyes like magic, see the desert go from dry and brown to lush and green in a matter of hours, I slept underground and walked in the open air below sea level. I am truly lucky to live in such a wonderful country. If you are wondering what this has to do with my writing? A lot, just other stories and about one scene worth of material in this chapter. I hope it was worth the wait._

* * *

Chapter 16: The Urgency Of Now.

The news of the Queen's death spread rapidly, as dawn broke over the desert city of Rabanastre the entire population knew what had happened. Fran was furious at the lack of security among the solders, the general stayed the execution of Basch but the council demanded blood! Tal foiled an attempt to murder the prisoner whist he slept, at least they assumed that Basch slept, in truth he had not focused on anything other than his lost love the entire night.

Ondor had spent breakfast with the General and Fran, Fran had successfully dissuaded the Marquis from officially announcing Ashelia's death.

"She's not dead," Fran said flatly, "The COL were good but they didn't have all the facts when they created the clone."

"And what was that?" The Marquis asked as he poured himself a cup of hot tea.

"It seems the newly weds jumped the gun," Tal continued, "The Queen was pregnant."

"Is pregnant," Fran corrected him, "As far as we can tell, Ashe did not die but was kidnapped."

"The records say that Ashe is dead," he sipped his beverage, "And the council wants me to officially announce the death so they can assume power."

"When we rescue the Queen," Fran told him, "You will loose face. As you have once before announced Ashelia's death and had her return to do it twice will make you either look foolish or involved in a conspiracy to overthrow the Dalmascan throne."

Ondor pondered what she had to say, "I see your point," he sighed, "And if the council decide to announce it they will look power hungry."

"If the shoe fits," Tal commented, "They have been pushing Ashe for more power since she assumed the throne that fateful day when she and her comrades defeated Vayne atop of the Bahamut. Over the years I have been called to settle the arguments and even subdued a potential rebellion all because they want Ashe to be nothing but a figurehead."

"I heard nothing of that!" Ondor exclaimed, "Ashe never said a word!"

Tal snorted, "She didn't know, I had no time to waste and the offending councilman … mysteriously disappeared." Tal winked letting the Marquis know that the perpetrator met an early demise. "At the time I saw no need to inform the Queen as she had many problems at the time; a few of the Margrace Princes had come for an attempt to capture her heart."

"Yes," Ondor remembered the time well, the numerous complaints she made about the behaviour of the Princes and one outright obscene act by Al-Cid's younger brother Lino. "I can see your reasoning."

"So what do we do now?" Fran asked, "We cannot let Basch meet with the executioner's axe and that is what will happen if the council take hold of Dalmasca's ruling."

"What of your partner?" Ondor asked, "The Pirate Balthier, would he be up for a not too legal act?"

"Do Chocobos stink?" Fran responded, "Chances are he already is in the process of trying to free our friend as we speak."

* * *

Vaan kicked a dire rat out of the way, he and Balthier had trudged through the sewers for hours and apparently Vaan had lost his map to the area and now the two men navigated by memory. "For someone who spent the majority of his youth hunting dire rats in these sewers, you sure have a lousy memory," Balthier drawled as they found yet another dead end. "I'm beginning to think you lied to us Vaan."

"Something's changed," he argued, "Like the whole sewers has been remodelled."

"Partially destroyed perhaps," the Pirate countered as he spotted another set of rubble that once were stairs, "We will have to climb it, there is no other way."

Vaan whined a little at the incline that was almost vertical. The two men began to climb the rubble, Vaan caught his hand on a sharp rock, "Ow!" He cried, sucking the cut to clean it.

"You must be careful, Vaan," Balthier chuckled, "You could lead a trail for the Palace guards to follow."

Vaan grumbled and cursed as he pulled himself up, slipping every so often until he reached the top. "Once this is all sorted, I will never come back to these sewers ever again!" Vaan grumbled.

"Chances are we won't even be back in Rabanastre again," the Pirate said dryly, "We are to break Basch out of prison … again and most likely will be hunted with no reprieve." He dusted himself off and helped Vaan to his feet, "Face it, we will never be welcome here again."

Vaan chuckled, "Then it is lucky that me and Penelo have no family here anymore."

"I have a brother in the northern Archadian province of Yellese," Balthier announced, "He and I have not seen each other for over a decade, not since my father threw him out."

"Where did that come from?" Vaan asked, confused at the intimate revelation.

"I don't know," he sighed as they continued on there way, "I guess I'm still trying to deal with Ashelia's loss."

They walked in silence as they made their way through the labyrinth of walkways and stairs until they reached the exit to Lowtown. The entire area was deserted, not one soul wandered the dark and depressing neighbourhood as though everyone had been herded up and moved out. "I don't like this," Balthier whispered urgently to Vaan.

"I agree," he replied with his eyes wide, hastily scanning the area for palace guards. The young Thief shivered, his breath condensing into a fog that hung in the air eerily before evaporating.

A strange groaning sound of ice grinding against itself echoed down the abandoned passages, Balthier turned to look towards the origins of the ominous sound. A blast of cold air raced towards them at break neck speed. The Pirate pushed Vaan behind a pile of crates as the arctic blast left a thin layer of ice in its wake.

"What the hell?" Vaan cried as he saw the frost covered lane.

"I have no idea," Balthier answered absently as he hesitantly moved out to the open road when a haunting howl echoed loudly followed by what could only be described as stomping in a slow, rhythmic pulse.

"What ever it is," Vaan shook visibly, "It sounds pissed."

Balthier was not immune to the terror that flowed like a river through the halls of Lowtown either, "Nothing I have ever encountered before."

"What should we do?" Vaan gripped his sword tightly, "We can't let a beast this powerful to decimate the people of Lowtown."

"I know," Balthier mimicked Vaan by reaching for his guns, "A hero never turns from danger."

Vaan shook again, "Well we should get moving, it's cold."

Nodding, Balthier began to advance on the unknown creature. Vaan fumbled with a few protective motes to give them the advantage. The slow walk towards the beast felt like an eternity yet seemed to finish all too soon as the came upon a mare made completely of ice and towered high above them.

"By the gods what is it?" Vaan shrieked, loosing control of his composure.

"A frostmare," Balthier replied with an equally high shriek, "I thought they were extinct."

"Well someone forgot to tell this one," Vaan instinctively cast Firaga on the ice giant.

The frostmare howled ferociously and tried to stomp on Vaan for the annoyance, who luckily dove out of the way. It was there when Vaan solved the mystery of the missing Lowtown population, dozens of bodies had been trampled into a meaty mess which he landed in, pieces of fabric and flesh decorated the bloody pulp. Vaan could not stop the bile rising in his throat, how many of the people he knew were under his body? A rage built inside him, unleashing his quickening in a powerful wave of supercharged mist, Balthier joined in and set of a chain of attacks that crippled the beast but it would not die.

"What does it take to kill this thing?" Vaan huffed angrily as he launched himself at the creature again.

Balthier tried to remember the legend that surrounded the creature, he knew it was native to Basch's homeland and that it resided in the very north of the country where the ice and snow remained all year round. He knew that the men of Landis were required to hunt them as a rite of passage to adulthood but what did they use? The old nation that had little to no mist used a weapon that he could not remember clearly. His thoughts were cut short as his attack was needed again, cursing his distracted memory he called in the wave to (hopefully) wash the frostmare away. "Vaan," Balthier called.

"What?" Vaan replied breathlessly.

"Did Basch ever tell you about his child hood or rituals in Landis?" The Pirate inquired.

"No, Why?"

"Damn, this is the creature that young Landis men have to kill in order to become men."

"And that helps us how?" Vaan began to get frustrated with this pointless conversation.

"What is a traditional Landis weapon?"

"I don't know, I'm kinda trying to kill this thing not answer your stupid questions!" Vaan yelled.

"This is not simple trivia, it could be our answer to kill this blasted thing!" Balthier yelled back.

The creature howled again as though trying to stop Balthier's train of thought, the mist attacks had died and the quick scan he performed had told him that the creature was only mildly injured. His guns did nothing and Vaan's sword only marginally fared better.

"Damnit!" Balthier cursed, "We're going to have to run."

"Why?"

"I just remembered the weapon we needed."

"Which is?"

"A golden axe," the irate Pirate said, "Mine's in the Strahl."

"I sold mine."

"WHAT?"

"I didn't think I would need it any more!"

"You NEVER sell weapons," Balthier chided angrily, "EVER!"

"I think Penelo still has hers, and a Zodiak Spear!"

"It's not any help right now is it?"

Vaan had an idea, searching his pockets, he found a small golden dagger, "What about this?" Vaan held up the pain golden weapon.

"Is that my dagger?" Balthier asked, checking his weapons holster to find that it was indeed his golden dagger, the one he 'found' whilst visiting the treasury in the palace. "You stole my dagger?"

"Like you didn't steal it first!" Vaan defended himself, "Will it work?"

"I hope so," the Pirate prayed to whatever gods were overlooking the battle and cast a sleep spell on the creature. The frostmare froze the instant the spell hit and swayed on its feet. It blinked a few time as the spell fought the beast into submission. After a few tense moments the frostmare lost its struggle and collapsed on its side with a painful sounding crack. "Give me the dagger," Balthier ordered his friend.

"Why?" Vaan shot back with a touch of anger, "It is my friends who were killed by this thing!"

"Do you know how to kill it?" Balthier patronised as he snatched the dagger back.

"Fine just kill it already," Vaan watched as Balthier approached the unconscious monster who snorted angrily in its sleep. The Pirate jumped but did not stop his approach. He placed the blade at the mare's throat and drove it in, up through the jaw and into its brain. A strange smelling blue fluid poured out from the wound covering the man's hand with a foul stench. The beast twitched as its body began to die, a hoof narrowly missing Vaan who jumped back just in time. "Is it dead?" The younger man asked cautiously.

"It would want to be," Balthier replied, flicking the blue blood from his hand, "I really hope that that was the last of its kind."

A small gasp from behind them caught their attention, "You killed it!" The tiny voice cried.

"Who's there?" Balthier called as he approached the source of the voice.

"Lilly," the little girl said as she got out of her hiding place.

"It won't hurt you again," Vaan informed the girl who was no more than four years old. She threw herself into Vaan's arms and cried.

"Where are your parents?" Balthier asked as he watched the two Lowtowners.

"It mashed them into the ground," she pointed at the dead creature, "With lots of others."

Balthier felt his gut twist as a few others emerges with grief and despair in their eyes. He recognised Filo and Kytes approach them, "We couldn't kill it," Filo confessed, collapsing next to Vaan, "I have never seen anything like it!"

"I attacked it with fire," Kytes spoke more to himself than to anyone else, "But it did nothing, my magicks did nothing!"

"Vaan," Balthier called, "We still have someone to save." Vaan nodded with sad determination.

The two men stood and set off again, "Vaan? Is it true that Basch killed Ashe?" Filo asked before they could retreat.

"No, someone is trying to set him up and we think we know who," Balthier answered for the Thief, "Filo, take charge and try to calm everyone as death is greedy today and I hope he has moved on for now."

Vaan and Balthier slipped out of Lowtown to find a crowd gathering out the front of the palace, the town crier announced that the Marquis is about to make a speech. "I don't think I want to hang around to hear this," Balthier groaned and hurried away to the dungeons across the way.

* * *

"I cannot believe he is still going to make the announcement!" Fran huffed as she and Tal left the Palace, "He knows that Ashe is still alive and that Basch is innocent!"

"Then we should make sure that our friend is safe," Tal spoke with equal frustration to Fran's, "But with the aerodrome destroyed we will have to leg it out one of the gates."

"I don't like our chances of escape if we took one of those routes," her ear twitched, "Perhaps we can take the path through the waterways to the hidden gateway to the Barheim Passage and escape out to the Estersand."

The General nodded, "Good plan." They ran with all their strength to the dungeons where only the most dangerous of criminals were kept. With a quick order, Tal cleared the area of soldiers, "I guess I have just resigned as General of the Order," he muttered, "Yet I have no regrets." He barged into the prison more determined than ever.

* * *

_Basch ran as fast as he could, he was sure Reks would be fine, the young man had shown a natural skill for the blade and had confidence that he would soon join him in defending the King. The doors to the throne room were locked from the inside, Basch had no idea if it was a good sign or not. "You're Majesty!" he called desperately, "Are you safe?"_

_The doors opened slowly and Basch made one of the biggest mistakes of his life, he ran into the room without checking if it were safe to do so. Two pairs of hands wrestled him to the floor and a fist collided with his jaw. "Please, don't hurt him," a familiar voice ordered the men, "He is my brother."_

_Basch's head turned to the direction Noah had spoken from, "Noah?" The knight called through swollen lips. His eyes struggling to focus on the tall blond figure before him, "I thought you were dead."_

_Basch's twin shuffled awkwardly, "You thought wrong." Noah lifted his sword and stepped closer to King Raminas._

"_So," Raminas chuckled, "The old man is not as feeble as you thought, I am correct."_

_Basch's eyes finally cleared to see his twin dressed in Dalmascan armour, "Noah, what are you doing?" Basch cried, the King not showing any fear to what was to come._

"_Basch," Raminas spoke kindly to him, "It is for the best." His eyes turned to Noah, "I forgive you Noah Fon Ronsenburg." Noah lifted the blade to the King's throat, the King's calm expression caused Noah to hesitate. _

_A new voice now added to the conversation, "Gabranth, just kill him or I'll give my men the word!"_

_Noah shot a panicked look at the man but it was the King who spoke, "All this because you did not wish to marry Ashelia," Raminas chuckled, "You're pathetic Vayne, you will never be the Emperor that Gramis is."_

_Vayne slapped the King hard, "My father is incompetent as an Emperor!" He scowled. "Gabranth do it now!"_

_Basch realised what was happening and cried out for Noah to stop but it was too late, the sword his brother had taken from him was now in the King's chest and a crimson stain grew over the brightly coloured fabric. "What have you done brother?" Basch asked in shock._

"_The only thing I could do," Noah replied as he withdrew the sword, his eyes trying to hide the conflict raging in his mind._

_The doors flew open and the boy from before, Reks, ran in. His face paled at the sight of the dead King and the men laying lifeless on the floor._

_Noah reacted quickly as Reks nearly saw his twin restrained in the corner, he took his sword and drove it into his stomach. The boy uttered something that Basch could not hear, but he could guess. The young man's disbelief and pain etched across his face as he called after Noah and collapsed on the floor, apparently dead._

_The room went quiet, deathly quiet. Basch's ragged breath fell silent as Vayne waved his hand and whispered something then everything went black._

"Why now?" Basch asked himself, "Why does my past come to haunt me now?" The faint light of dawn had crept through the bars of his cell hours earlier but neglected to warm the freezing man's body. His hands were numb from being raised above his head for so long and his eyes stung from the drying tears. He wished for death, he longed for it. Basch felt that he could not be the strong father his own had been and now his wife, his love Ashelia was no more what was the point?

Time meant nothing anymore, soon he will be brought before the city he called home and beheaded for nothing more than a twisted sense of justice. There would be no trial for him, no chance to defend himself for the council was in charge now and they hated him.

"Hey! Are you deaf?" Basch jumped at the view of an anxious Vaan jumping on the bars of his cell.

"I don't know about you," Balthier now added, "But I have this strange feeling like we've done this before." The Pirate smirked as he stepped closer to the bars, "And I believe you were innocent then too."

"At least we will forego the drop into the abyss this time," Fran added as she took the key for the cell from Tal, "But unlike before, the inmate does not wish to be rescued."

"I am a failure," Basch wheezed, his throat raw from the screams of anguish that carried him through his sleep, "Why should I live when the one person in all of creation that deserved a full happy life is no more?"

"Basch," Tal called, "Ashe lives, the body found is a doppelganger, someone to look like the Queen in every way."

Basch felt a small spark of hope. "How is it possible?"

Fran glided into his cell with a small grin on her lips, "They were good," she said as she worked on his shackles, "Even her scent was the same, but they failed to convince me for one reason."

Basch rubbed his wrists, "And what was that?"

"You are going to be a father again," Fran informed him as she helped him to his feet, "Ashe is pregnant and until now only Penelo and I knew."

His elation was short lived as he saw the concern on Fran's face, "What haven't you told me?"

"Ashe is in the custody of the COL," Tal answered, "Larsa is safe with Penelo and your family but we will have to escape on foot as the aerodrome is no more."

"What? My ship!" Vaan cried.

"A green flame consumed every bit of metal leaving the guards patrolling with very little to wear," Tal smiled, "They were stunned to say the least."

"Metalphilic fire," Basch confirmed, "Another non-lethal invention of Draklor's Doctor Themba."

"He still needs to work on his finer details of his motes," Balthier grumbled, the nasty rash still fresh in his mind, "Those side effects are not pleasant."

"We must go," Fran spoke urgently, her ears twitching wildly, "They are coming to execute you, Basch."

The five escaped through one of the side doors and out into the bustling city. They quickly made their way into Lowtown and into the Garamsythe Waterways without being detected.

The group spoke little as they navigated through the watery labyrinth to the secret exit to the Barhaim Passage. By the time they emerged from the darkness it was late afternoon and the Estersand was covered in long dark shadows.

"Where to?" Vaan asked the party as they emerged.

"To Landis," Basch answered, "Meet up with the others and make plans."

"You're calm for someone who has lost his bride," Balthier commented.

"I thought she was dead until I was told different," Bash informed him, "Now I have hope."

"Through Nebradia?" Tal asked, "Keep off the main roads."

Fran nodded in agreement, "Once we get out of Dalmasca it should be safer, but I fear bounty hunters. The price on your head will be higher than before."

"I must contact Zargabaath," Basch added, "Fill him in on current events and Larsa's location."

At that Zargabaath's ship flew over head at great speed towards Rabanastre. "Oh dear," Balthier uttered with a hint of dread.

"Can't be helped now," Basch grumbled, turning east northeast to Nebradia.

* * *

"Rabanastre, this is Judge Magister Zargabaath," the Judge spoke urgently into his radio to the desert capital, "I must speak urgently to Judge Magister Gabranth on a matter of great importance concerning the preservation of peace for Ivalice."

After a moment of static he heard his reply, "You will land and surrender to the Order immediately Judge Magister," more static, "Conspiracy to murder our Queen and sovereign."

Zargabaath felt a chill run through him, he was not only too late but they were under the assumption that Archades was responsible for it. "Rabanastre, I have evidence that the Children of Landis is responsible for the crimes you seek justice for," he called into his mouthpiece.

"We know the COL is just a front to hide Archades' true actions," the radio operator bit back, "You will land and surrender."

Zargabaath noticed that no aircraft were flying out to force him to land, not wanting to push his apparent luck turned his aircraft around and headed back to Archades as fast as the vehicle could travel. Panic set in, he had no idea what was happening. His information would not be believed, the Dalmascan Queen was dead and there was no news on his fellow Magister though he suspected that he was accused of the dastardly deed.

He had befriended Basch after the battle with Vayne, he knew that he had taken his twin's roll as Judge Magister Gabranth. They quickly learned to trust each other after an unfortunate incident at a bar after their shift had ended one evening, a misunderstanding had escalated into a more deadly threat when a man who had accused Zargabaath of theft had pulled a knife and went to attack him. Basch stepped in and successfully disarmed the man without bloodshed and forever earned Zargabaath's respect. The thought of Basch being accused of Queen Ashelia's murder was preposterous, the man loved her more than anything else in all of Ivalice with the exception of the children.

His next worry was for the Emperor. Larsa could be held hostage or worse. He did not want to think of what would happen to the Empire if Larsa were killed, it was in turmoil as it was after the attack on the Senate. A power struggle at such a delicate moment in the Empire's existence could bring it crumbling down, another page in the history books for school children to read about. He could not let that happen.

His musings were interrupted by a sudden impact on the hull of his ship, the craft shuddering violently. The Judge swore and moved to avoid the next volley of projectiles coming from one of Dalmasca's defence posts, the same ones Archades had helped construct to strengthen the small Kingdom.

He engaged the cloak to hide from the senses, any tactician would know not to give vital information to a potential enemy, especially one that was an enemy in the past. He was glad that they withheld the cloaking technology or the situation for him could have been deadly. Once safely out of Dalmascan air space he relaxed and continued to Archades.

* * *

Basch and the others had witnessed the attack and were glad that the Magister had made it out with little damage. "I hope Penelo had better luck," Vaan prayed, "D'you think they would have fired on her like that?"

Balthier shook his head, "She would have made it through when the aerodrome went up."

"There are still over three hundred Archadian dignitaries still in the palace," Tal informed them, "We will need to get them out before the Dalmascan council does something stupid."

"There was a time I would have said you were paranoid," Basch sighed, "Now I fear the council will execute every single one of them in retaliation."

The five companions trudge north towards the Nebra and closer to safety.

* * *

Ashe opened her eyes slowly, her body ached all over almost as though she had been beaten whilst she slept. She found herself in a sterile room with one window with a view of blue sky. The young Queen went to get up from her bed only to find that she could not move, she found her wrists and ankles restrained and not in the clothing she wore when taken but a filthy stained rag that did little for her modesty.

A hissing noise drew her attention towards the door where her captor stood in all the arrogance of a tyrant. "Sleep well you're majesty?" He asked with an amused smirk.

Her response was on the tip of her tongue, however, as she opened her mouth to spit it in Johan's direction nothing came out. She tried again and again to no avail. She shot him a glare as though asking what he had done to her.

Johan laughed, "Oh that's right," his grin grew with malice, "I cast silence and immobilise on you."

Ashe tested his words by trying to sit up and failing again. She looked around to see that her wrists were no longer restrained but still unable to move, fear shot through her with an intensity she never felt before.

"I know, genius," Johan sat next to her on the bed and ran his hand up her thigh, "I have many such ideas … like leaving a gift for your citizens of Lowtown."

The Queen shuddered, the evil glint in his eye spoke volumes, she was sure that he had something particularly devastating. How many of her people have died because of his _gift_?

"What?" He chuckled, "No thank you?"

She gave him the only thing she could, a scowl.

He let his eyes travel over her body, "I can see why Noah wanted you," he said changing the subject, "Quite the tasty morsel."

If she could have slapped him she would have but his precautions he placed on while she slept had prevented it. She glared murderously at him as his hand travelled further up her leg, teasing at the apex.

"It is a pity that Noah has already soiled you," he quickly removed his hand and left.

Ashe relaxed as the man left, she was sure she would have shuddered if she could, instead she fell into a deep despair. If she was kept under these spells she would not have a hope to escape.

* * *

The small group of escapees trudged through the Estersand under the blazing hot midday Dalmascan sun, Basch had the hope that Ashe was still alive and she was carrying his child within her but her prison was high in the stratosphere where no other vehicle could reach. "She is strong, Basch," Fran comforted the Judge with her truthful words, "I am sure she is formulating a way to escape as we speak."

Basch looked up to try find where the cloaked air-fortress hid, "She is my everything," he nearly chocked in renewed despair, "And what of the innocent child that grows within her? Will they be safe?"

"Ashe will make sure of it," Tal added, "Her mother was strong with her as you remember."

Basch knew exactly what Tal referred to, during Basch's escape from Landis he stumbled upon a caravan being attacked by a saurian. A lone woman had escaped the snapping jaws of the hungry beast even with the hindrance of being nearly full term with her pregnancy. Basch killed the creature and then helped the woman give birth, the woman was the Lady Amalia, Queen consort of Dalmasca, the child was his beloved Ashe only he had no idea until much later. "I hope so."

Vaan gave an exaggerated sigh, "I swear the desert is getting hotter by the day, you could fry a fish on a rock straight from the river!"

Balthier laughed at the younger Pirate, "The village is only a few hours walk from here," he then gave a small smirk, "Unless we are attacked by something dangerous."

"Too late," Tal cut in when a pack of hungry looking wolves approached from the south.

"Had to open your stupid mouth didn't you!" Vaan cursed Balthier who feigned offence at his comment.

Fran chuckled and pulled out a dagger, "We are in need of supplies and their pelts will put valuable gil in our pockets," she gave the two a scowl, "Draw your weapons and fight!"

The five combatants quickly killed the pack quickly and collected the loot left behind. They remained in silence for most of their journey to the Nebra river with the exception of the random fights with wolves, cactoids and even a wild saurian who clearly had had a bad day. Dusk was welcomed as they staggered into the small village on the banks of the Nebra, they were dehydrated more than anything as they had no water on their journey. Vaan wasted no time in diving into the welcoming blue waters of the river joining some of the local children.

Balthier was content to just stay back and watch the young man forget his troubles and relax. He envied Vaan's ability to recover from something as traumatic as the frostmare, but the Pirate had lost his innocents a long time ago. How the Rabanastran orphan was able to hold onto his baffled him.

"A gil for your thoughts?" Basch asked as he approached.

Balthier glanced back at the Judge before returning his gaze at the children and Vaan frolicking in the cool water. "Before we reached you we were detained with something that quite frankly scared the shit out of me," the Pirate informed his friend, "I was envious of Vaan's ability to recover from that living nightmare and yet I feel like the world is slowly crushing me."

Basch's curiosity piqued at the surprise of Balthier's words, "By the gods, what was it?"

"Something I dare say you are quite familiar with … A frostmare." Balthier's voice was as cold as the beast he and Vaan slue.

Basch shuddered, "My brother and I would have faced one on our eighteenth birthdays had the Empire not attacked." He gave a smile and offered his hand, "Congratulations my friend, you are now a man which is more than I can say for myself."

"You have proved yourself more than worthy by slaying Zodiark almost single-handedly," the Pirate chuckled dryly, "No, to be a real man one must hold the heart of a good woman. That is where you win my friend."

"I know you and Ashe shared a bed early on in our journey," Basch admitted, "Though I know neither of you will admit it."

"I think I was more of a convenient bed partner as she did not know the truth about you at the time," Balthier grumbled, "If she had I doubt I would have had a look in."

Basch chuckled dryly at the Pirate's tone, "If the unthinkable happens promise me that you will take care of her."

Balthier did not know what to say, his best friend just asked him to take care of his wife if he dies. "I will marry her, you know that."

"Then you will inherit Ronsenburg Manor and the children," the Judge added, "And my aunt Ingra."

The Pirate grinned, "I like your aunt."

* * *

Al-Cid was getting impatient, all day he had been held up in the guest quarters with his increasingly annoying wife. "Why won't anybody talk to me?" He shouted through the door to the guards who stood stoically either side of the entrance. The Rozzarian Prince kicked the close by decorative table that held a priceless vase in anger causing the vase to tumble to oblivion in a thousand pieces.

At the sound of the crash his wife began again with the complaining and the insults in their native tongue.

"I refuse to talk to you unless it is the common tongue," he shouted at her, knowing she would not understand, "You conniving bitch!" He stomped over to the small table and chairs by the west window that looked out towards his homeland. Al-Cid had done a great many things he regretted over his life time, the most regrettable sitting in the bedroom stuffing her face with Dalmascan pastries and drinking the finest wines available. A moment of weakness had landed him in the arms of a woman who could not see past his title, no doubt as he was a likely contender for the Rozzarian throne and fancied herself as first wife material. The thought of her as first wife would no doubt set the peace negotiations with Archades back fifty years and into another costly war over something trivial.

He could not wait to tell her that because of her he would never sit on the crystal throne of Rozzaria, the one good thing that came out of the nightmare of marriage.

Uncorking yet another bottle of amber liquid that he could not name he poured himself a shot that he hoped would help him pass out and escape his wife.

The imprisonment would have been welcome if he had been with any other than the countess El Bottane of Argus. "I should have asked Ashe years ago in Bur Omisace," he grumbled to himself, "Even the little blond would have been acceptable wife instead of her." He downed the shot and leaned back in the chair, his head pounding from the noise in the other room. "_SHUT UP!_" He cried out in Rozzarian, "_YOU INSUFFERABLE WOMEN!_"

The noise went quiet for a moment before starting up again. He decided to pester the guards again, maybe they would respond to bribery? He stood with the bottle of fiery liquid and walked confidently to the door once again, "Perhaps you gentlemen would like a snifter?" He shook the contents enticingly. The shorter of the men flinched and shot a look at the bottle, "I will give this bottle to whoever can answer my question: Why am I stuck in here with my _darling_ wife instead of celebrating the nuptials?"

Both men slumped their shoulders, "The Queen was murdered by her husband and now we search for him and his accomplices including the traitor General Tal Azelas," the shorter man explained.

Al-Cid stood there trying to process what the man said, "I must be drunk, it sounded like Queen Ashelia is dead."

"She is you're grace," the taller man confirmed, "The council have established rule under their own power."

"No," the Prince could not comprehend the fact that the Queen no longer drew breath and now the power hungry council had swept in within hours of the event and established government. Something was not right. "May I see her body?"

"The funeral rights are being performed right now in preparation for the main ceremony tomorrow."

"So soon?" Al-Cid grew more suspicious, usually Dalmascan funeral rights were performed over the week after the death, his father participated in Prince Rasler's and it is usually a public event, "Why the change in ritual?"

"Council prerogative."

Al-Cid handed the bottle to the men and closed the door. He felt as though something was wrong with what he had been told, if Ashe was indeed dead why would the honourable Judge Magister Gabranth do it? The man was the bane of his existence when it came to Ashe, she had avoided him in general conversation in favour of the silent man in iron. The thought of Gabranth being the perpetrator was preposterous, he hated to admit it but there was love between them he could see it at the wedding ceremony, the Magister's eyes were barely dry at the sight of Ashe in her gown. No, Basch was a convenient patsy for the silent coup of the council, by why? Ashe was a calm and just Queen, what did the council have against her? More like she stood in their way.

"_What is wrong now?_" The countess asked, "Y_ou cry like a child!_"

"_The Queen is dead,_" he replied, "_Some how I believe something is amiss._"

"_You are still pining for the woman who rejected you?_" She condescendingly asked, "_Well, at least I will no longer fear you running away with her._"

"_You are a petty woman and I will find a way to rid myself of you,_" the Prince snarled menacingly, "_Ashelia was more of a woman than you will ever be! If it were not for my child growing within your belly I would never have married you._"

Later that night, the countess went into labour.

* * *

The villagers of the Nebra river gave the escapees a hut to themselves. Vaan had found sleep without too much trouble but the events of the day had left their mark on the young man's psyche in the form of nightmares of the bloodiest kind, images of the unfortunate victims of the frostmare pulverised on the cold stone road of Lowtown. How many had been friends? How many families suffered because of a mad man's whim? How many families no longer drew breath? The unconscious questions played out over and over the Thief's mind, each time causing a cold sweat to break out all over as though feverish.

Balthier found no rest, the nightmare had not waited for him to sleep before visiting. He could not understand what made this creature more terrifying than any other they fought. Perhaps it was the inherently evil presence that the frostmare had that chilled him to the bone. He could try joke it off, make out that it was nothing. Landi boys became men killing those things but how many never slept again knowing such malevolence walked the lands. The smell of ice was the most horrific part about it, the unidentifiable remains as they froze in the icy blasts of the creatures breath gave an odour that had revisited him during the most inconvenient of times.

"Can't sleep?" Tal asked, sitting up from his bed.

"I have seen horrors like I never thought imaginable today," Balthier explained in a hushed whisper, as though afraid someone might hear, "How can I ever find peace to slumber ever again?"

"Listen to me Balthier," Tal spoke like a knowledgeable older brother, "You can either let the experience consume you or you can see what you actually did, you killed a beast that could have destroyed the city and who knows how many thousands of people. You are a hero."

"I do not feel like it," the Pirate sighed gloomily.

"A true hero never does," the two fell into a comfortable silence. Balthier laid back and closed his eyes, finally falling into slumber.

* * *

The Strahl had landed a short time ago at the Ronsenburg estate, Penelo had piloted the craft with all her abilities and now had cloaked the ship to hide it from unwanted eyes. Ingra had taken the younger members of the crew into the house and put them to bed.

Penelo was restless, her feet carried her through the halls of the grand old house, the wooden floor creaking loudly with each of her soft steps. She was in shock. Ashe, her friend was no more.

Penelo opened the door the Ronsenburg family library and found Larsa sitting at one of the small wooden tables cradling his face in his hands. "Larsa?" Penelo called, "What are you doing here?"

"The same reason you are probably here," he replied sadly, "I just cannot believe she's gone."

"Neither can I," she broke down, "I cannot believe they are blaming Basch for this! The man loved her more than anything."

"Who ever planned the attack had wanted him out of the way," Larsa mused, "Do you think it has anything to do with the Children of Landis?"

"If it does then Dalmasca is in a lot of trouble," she shook her head worriedly, "If the council has been compromised with corruption, we might not be able to …" Penelo clamped her hand over her mouth.

"Might not be able to do what?" Larsa reached for her hand, "What is it Penelo?"

She shook her head rapidly, "I can't, I promised Ashe I wouldn't tell."

"Penelo," Larsa spoke firmly, "If this is important I don't think Ashe would mind." He stroked the back of her hand to calm her, "Talk to me."

With a sniffle, Penelo began, "Ashe was not the end of the Dalmascan line," her voice was little more than a whisper, "She and Rasler managed to conceive a child on their wedding night."

Larsa was speechless, his jaw literally dropped and his eyes bulged wide.

"After Vossler saved her from your army's clutches they hid with the nomads of Giza," Penelo took a deep breath and continued, "It was there they discovered she was with child. She and Vossler posed as husband and wife and brought the child into the world."

"I cannot believe it!" Larsa exclaimed, "Where is this child?"

"He is in the care of Vossler's sister with the Nomads," she explained, "His existence was kept secret so he could live a normal life until he was called upon to lead Dalmasca and Nebradia. That was Ashe's wish."

"Do you think Basch knows?"

"I doubt it," Penelo sighed, "I only found out when I saw her looking at a small picture of a baby in her things years ago. I pushed and she confessed her son's existence."

"Why didn't she take the boy back once she returned?"

"I don't know," the blond closed her eyes and tried to stifle her tears, "I guess we will never know now."

Larsa continued to stroke Penelo's hand, her skin was so warm and soft, not the hand of an orphan of Lowtown. He looked up into her eyes, "We need to place him on the throne of Dalmasca." He reached for her cheek and caressed it gently, "You are so beautiful, Penelo."

"Larsa not now," She stood to leave but the young Emperor blocked her, his height startling the young woman, "By the gods Larsa, since when did you become so tall?" She looked upon him with new eyes, who stood before her was not the young boy who comforted her in Bhujerba but a man whose eyes were two sapphires sparkling in the candle light.

"Don't go," he begged sincerely.

"We can't," she choked, "You're …" She froze as Larsa took her in his arms and kissed her with all the passion he felt for her. Penelo could not fight him, her body refused to let her argue against his sensual assault on her lips. She surrendered and returned the heat he gave her.

Larsa let his hand drift down to the small of her back where it was exposed to the air, it was cool to the touch and the heat of his hand caused her to erupt in goosebumps and shiver. His other hand threaded between the strands of her braids, supporting her head so her neck would not hurt. When he pulled away, he did so cautiously, looking at her closed eyes and swollen lips. In that moment she was perfect, so serine. "Penelo," he called huskily.

She opened her eyes, tasting her lips as though in disbelief, "My Lord," she replied.

"Never call me that again," he spoke softly, "You can never call me that again my beautiful sweet Penelo."

"We shouldn't have done that," She panicked and tried to pull away, "We must never speak of this again."

He let her retreat, her words cutting deep, "No," he challenged defiantly, "You felt it too, I know you did."

"That is why we must not let this happen again," Penelo could feel her heart racing, "You are to wed another and I am just a commoner, an orphan from the streets of Lowtown. I am not worthy of you."

"It is I who am not worthy of you," Larsa declared, capturing her hand as she turned, "You who are an angel from the heavens, walking among us mortals, teasing us with your pulchritude."

"Pultrichude?"

"Your Beauty, your elegance, your allure," he clarified and pulled her into his arms, "You are perfection to me and I cannot live without you now I have tasted your lips." He tenderly stroked her cheek again, "I love you Penelo."

His words broke her determination to keep under control, tears spilling down her face. "I …" she could not continue, His declaration was so heartfelt that she could not argue against it.

"Do not speak anymore," he gave her a chaste peck to her lips, "I think we should rest and in the morning we will decide on the best course of action." She nodded and he guided them out of the library.

* * *

The Dalmascan Council sat in the chambers late into the night, the topic of discussion was of course the problem of leadership. "Should we choose one of us to lead?" One of the elderly councillors asked.

"Hand power over to just one of us?" Another added, "Or should we choose a puppet to do as we require?"

"I would suggest we wait for now," the newer member of the council spoke commandingly. Councillor Pran had been in the council for nearly two years and had worked his way into the Queen's favour and now he used that favour to control the situation. "If we act too soon it will look like we had something to do with our beloved Queen's death instead of those Archadian dogs."

"Then what should we do?" The demands came, "We cannot leave the Kingdom without guidance!"

"Then I suggest we declare a month of morning to give us time to decide what we should do," Pran steepled his fingers in a contemplative pose, "We do not want to make any rash decisions concerning our fair nation."

"And what do we do about the Judge?" It was the question on each one of the councillors lips.

"Put a price on his head," Pran stated calmly, "Along with his accomplices the sky Pirates and General Tal."

"Just how much do we offer for their capture?"

"One hundred million gil each."

The gasps were not unexpected, "That will bankrupt the Kingdom!"

"Not if one of our loyal solders get them first."

* * *

Zargabaath's aircraft landed at the military base rather than the aerodrome, Dalmasca's response to his presence told him that they were no longer allies. He feared what had occurred for them to think that Archades was responsible for the death of Queen Ashelia. He also wondered what happened to Gabranth, had they blamed him for the act? If so he was most likely dead now. His concern for the Emperor grew, he was not told by the Rabanastran what had happened to his liege though he doubted they would say anything unless they were planning a ransom.

Feeling dirty and tired he unceremoniously walked into the Magistrate almost dragging his helmet with him.

"Magister," the clerk at the front desk greeted him with a salute, "We have heard of the devastating news from Dalmasca, I know you knew the Queen, I am sorry."

"It is a problem," Zargabaath sighed, "Call a general meeting with every Magister in attendance, no excuses."

"Yes sir," the clerk began to call each of the Magisters while Zargabaath headed straight for the meeting room. He slumped into his designated chair, his armour creaking quietly as it settled around him.

He threw his helmet onto the large table in front of him, followed by his gauntlets and leather gloves. He rubbed his eyes as the weight of fatigue grew in them, everything had gone bad so quickly. The Judge was frightened of the possibility of war, he was getting too old that. If Dalmasca was holding their Emperor it was an act of war and he would have no choice but to order a strike.

Judge Magister Richter entered in a similar fashion, slumping in his chair and groaning, "Maar will be here shortly," he said quietly. "We've received a communication from Rabanastre demanding we return Gabranth to them for justice to be served."

Zargabaath's stomach flipped, "They haven't demanded ransom for the Emperor?"

"They haven't got him or anyone by what I could determine from the message," Richter explained, "They have accused us of swaying the loyalty of one of their generals and have demanded him also to prevent retribution."

"Dalmasca is grasping at straws," Zargabaath stated, "It must be the COL who is behind it, that is the only explanation."

"They are the obvious choice," Maar said as she entered, her breath short, "After the Senate incident they went quiet, quite clearly planning for their next attack. The leader is a bad tactician and the Dalmascans are either worse or in league with them."

"The idea that Dalmasca is in league with a terrorist organisation is not unlikely," Richter commented, "It is not that long ago that they wanted to see every one of us dead."

"And without their Queen who knows what will happen now," Maar added.

Zargabaath knew what they were saying. Ashelia was the voice of reason for the Dalmascan council, now she was dead what was stopping the small desert Kingdom from declaring war on Archades? "It would be unwise for Dalmasca do attack us," Zargabaath mused, "But if they did have the help of the COL they might have the power to defeat us." The other Magisters joined them as Zargabaath finished talking. "My fellow Magisters," he greeted them, "We have a problem."

* * *

On the other side of the city, Doctor Themba stood in his lab with many assistants mixing different ingredients together to improve the healing rate of the standard potion. After hearing from the Magistrate that they were on the brink of war his main concern was healing their solders quickly and cleanly. He had gone against orders to develop more deadly weapons feeling that they were not what Archades would need. Themba knew he would be reprimanded for it but from his research he could protect the solders from the more devastating weapons out there Creating weapons stronger than the enemy would prove to be difficult and expensive, and the Empire could not afford that.

"You have been summoned to the Magistrate, Doctor Themba," one of the interns announced entering the lab.

"I will be there shortly," he answered, taking his gloves off. "Celestine, continue my work."

"Yes, Doctor Themba," she replied as he left the lab. Themba was curious as to why he was being summoned. Had the Magistrate found out that he had gone against orders for weapons in favour of therapeutic treatments for injuries and maladies?

He descended to the ground floor and entered the hover car waiting for him. In silence it took off and headed to the Magistrate. Themba looked down on the assembling troops in the streets, something had happened. "Driver, can you tell me has happened?"

"Word has it Dalmasca has accused us of assassinating their Queen," the driver informed him, "They are threatening war."

"Why would we want to kill the leader of one of our allies?" The Rozzarian asked, like the answer was obvious.

"It is said that Gabranth killed her on their wedding night," the driver continued, "And our Emperor is in hiding for they do not have him."

Themba mused over the intelligence he received, from the rumours he heard Gabranth loved the Queen so it made no sense as to why he would kill her. Romantic gossip flowed through the halls of Draklor each and every day, when the news of Gabranth's nuptial arrived it consumed the establishment. Themba himself had donated a large chunk of his pay to buy a gift for them even though he only knew Gabranth from the business they conducted through writing.

The hover car shook from a rush of traffic heading the way they came. "What the …" the driver cursed as the hover car rocked violently from the air eddies buffeting the vehicle.

"They're emergency vehicles," Themba announced, watching where they were heading. He froze when the stopped at Draklor, "I wonder who blew up what?" He tried to sound nonchalant but with the recent incident in Dalmasca and the obliteration of the Senate he doubted the situation was a mere accident. Themba sat back, his eye caught the gaze of the driver, "I have no idea what has happened," the scientist explained, "I hope it's not too serious, I have a lot of sensitive projects I'm working on."

It was not a long journey to the Magistrate and Themba found them landing by the main entrance. They were greeted by several Judges armed to the teeth, "Doctor Themba can you please step out of the car," the one that was clearly in charge ordered him.

Themba did not move at first, the situation slowly became apparent. He stepped out with his hands in the surrender position. "For the record," the Rozzarian spoke softly, so as to not appear threatening, "I have no idea what is going on."

"We just need to talk to you," Zargabaath said from the main entrance, "There is a war brewing and we need to make sure you are on our side."

Themba grinned uneasily, "My heart is with the Empire who took me in."

* * *

The incident at Draklor had the Magistrate on edge, Larsa was still unaccounted for and Dalmasca appeared to be readying for war according to the spies in Rabanastre. He needed to check if Ingra was safe with the children, the Ronsenburg estate in the old republic was not commonly known about by the Magistrate, only Gabranth and himself knew of the family manor that survived the invasion of the Empire and subsequently erased from the records by his own hand. He had done it for her, Ingra, the Landi beauty that caught his eye that fateful day he watched the fight between the master of the house of Gabranth and his daughter Valdar, widow of the former Chancellor Ulrich Fon Ronsenburg, at the Akademy. She looked so fragile and scared among the students that ran past her as she mopped the floor. He could not blame her, she was among the very people that razed her home, killed her family and now she worked for the military academy that trained them. If she had heard the awful truth of the incident at the time, he doubted she would have stayed.

He approached his ship in the hanger, the crew were cleaning the scorch marks off the hull. All superficial sooty smudges which disappeared quickly under the rags of the ground crew who vigorously polished the shiny metal surface. Zargabaath's mood lifted slightly as he saw the name of his personal ship reveal itself from under the carbon, _her _name.

Procedure stated that he should let the ground crew finish cleaning the craft before taking it out again but he had an urgent mission to find the Emperor, officially, truthfully he wanted to see if Ingra had escaped. Moving as swiftly as his aging body allowed, he readied to leave. The ground crew withdrew without argument, opening the hanger doors for the Magister's departure.

Grey clouds hung on the western horizon ominously like a sign from the gods of old warning their mortal children of impending doom. Zargabaath knew they were starting behind the eight ball in this situation, the Children of Landis were powerful and more organised than either of the Empires and although they had only targeted Archadia, he had no doubt that Rozzaria would soon be hit.

A thought crossed the Magister's mind as he accelerated through the Valendian skies, he most certainly would be retiring once this conflict was done.

* * *

The breaking dawn of another ill-omened day over the former Republic of Landis saw the Judge Magister's craft greeted with a sanguine sky. Zargabaath landed the craft on the designated landing pad at the Ronsenburg estate as the sun broke the horizon casting long dark shadows across the ground. The Judge did not see anyone come greet him, not that anyone would be awake at the ungodly hour. Solemnly he approached the manor, walking quietly as to not disturb the inhabitants too soon.  
The servants entrance was unlocked, as per usual, he never had known it to be locked. It led to the kitchen where he was met with a room devoid of life. Sitting down at the table after filling the kettle and placing it on the stove top. Only when the kettle whistled was he joined by Ingra. "Gerhold?" She sleepily welcomed him, "Do you bring news of Basch?" Ever the caring aunt.

"I'm afraid not," he replied, pouring two cups of tea that he had prepared. "Larsa, is he safe?"

"He's sleeping," Ingra accepted the cup of tea and sat down, "The young Emperor's safety was not the only reason for your visit, was it."

The Magister sighed, taking a sip of the hot beverage to help him compile his thoughts. "I found a report that had been buried at the bottom of a very big pile of reports marked urgent," he explained. "I curse my laziness for I could have prevented the Dalmascan Queen's murder." He ran his weary hands over his face, "The man that heads the COL looks like he could be Basch's brother."

"Impossible," Ingra stated flatly, "Noah died years ago, he could not be the one responsible."

"I did not say Noah," Zargabaath clarified, "The resemblance is one that would suggest a close blood relative, not identical twin." He caught her eyes with a glance that said he told the truth.

"Dear Valdar only had the two pregnancies," Ingra explained, "One a girl who died within a year of her birth and the other was the boys." The elderly woman sighed sadly, "They ruined her and she could never have any more babies after them."

"Did Ulrich have any cousins, extended family?" Zargabaath pushed, needing answers as to why the close resemblance.

"No," she replied, "Only me."

The Judge Magister was at a loss, "Johan seems quite fixated on Basch, but calls him Noah like the way someone close would. He obviously does not know that Noah is dead and that Basch lives in his place." He thought for a moment, "Did Noah have dealings with the man in years past, I must trawl through nearly twenty years worth of sealed documents for answers."

Ingra could only comfort the man whose very world was falling apart, more mystery surrounding the terrorists who seem very well connected. And what if there was a connection with the Fon Ronsenburgs? Would they be implicated in the terrible actions of this mysterious man who bares a resemblance to the strong honourable men of Landis? Fear gripped the old woman's heart, did Ulrich have a secret life he kept hidden from everyone? He did spent much time in the Capital away from his family. "If this Johan is family," Ingra finally said, "Records of his birth, if they occurred in Landis, would be in the hall of records in the old Capital. But a terrible beast has made it's home there and no one has ever returned alive from the city since the attack."

Zargabaath doubted that nobody returned alive from the city, how would the story get out. But then again, the survivors of the old republic were very protective of their ancient home and fantastic stories and legends arose to guard the many secrets the country holds. "I should consult the Emperor," he said, his mind a whirl of plans and possibilities, "He should be brought up to date on world events."

"I believe I know all I need to," Larsa spoke, letting his presence be known, "No need to fill me in, I heard enough." The young man looked much older than he had days ago. Just days out from his sixteenth he carried an air that was beyond his years and it saddened the old Magister.

"Have you any ideas on how we should proceed?" Zargabaath asked, defeated for the moment.

"Let the Magistrate know I am alive and not in Dalmascan hands," The young Emperor ordered, "But we will wait until we have news that the others have rescued Basch and are safe." Larsa helped himself to a cup of tea and joined them at the table. "If the legend of the great beast that resides in the old Capital is in fact the truth then having Gabranth there will improve the success for the information recovery." The teen looked uncomfortable, "I wish we knew more."

"Patients, dearie," Ingra consoled, "I'll get you some breakfast." She busied herself with the task she had taken on.

Larsa looked at the Judge Magister, "What aren't you telling me?"

With a heavy sigh, Zargabaath revealed more, "Dalmasca is demanding the retribution for the Queen's assassination, believing we are responsible and are willing to risk all out war."

"I take it they are unwilling to negotiate," Larsa rhetorically stated, "I can't blame them, they have lost their Queen and no obvious heir."

Zargabaath was curious to the statement, "As far as I know, Ashelia was the last of the Dynast-King's descendants."

Larsa decided to keep his mouth shut for the time being, the less people knew about the secret son of Ashelia the better. "No King in history has ever had only legitimate children, we just need to find them."

Zargabaath waited a moment before answering, "True," the Judge's expression saying more than his voice, _Who isn't saying everything now?_

Life was getting more complicated by the hour, their only hope that their missing companions were safe. A gamble that could determine the future of Ivalice.

* * *

Johan felt pleased with his work, Ashelia was in the brig and all the nations of Ivalice were at each other's necks, all his years of planning were finally coming to fruition. "Carla," he called, feeling quite smug with what he planned to do next, "Clean the Queen for my bed chamber, I wish to have some fun with her later."

Carla had only just entered and Johan was sending her out again to make his latest acquisition ready for his bed. It made her angry, "Don't I look nice to you any more?" She sneered, turning her back to him.

Johan back-handed her, "Do as you are told, girl!" Carla cowered as he raised his hand again. "Do I frighten you?" He sneered, looking more menacing than he did before. Carla did not know how to respond, yes, he did frighten her but if she answered that he could beat her, if she said no or nothing then he would probably beat her anyway. She hesitated too long and Johan grinned darkly, "Does the little mouse like pain?" He hit her again, "A whore begging for it?" Another strike.

"Please," she begged with a swollen lip impeding her speech. She was going to continue with 'No more' but did not get the chance as Johan grasped her throat and lifted her off the ground.

"As you wish," malice dripped from each word Johan uttered, bringing his lips close to her ear, "As you wish." He threw her into the bulkhead, knocking her unconscious. Carla landed in a heap on the floor, black and blue from the bruises Johan gave her. "Now that was a mood killer," he grumbled, "Somebody clean that up." He left the bridge swiftly to return to his quarters for the night, he had many things to consider now that phase one was complete. Phase two would soon begin.

* * *

_I am honestly trying to work more on my stories but you cannot control when the muses will grace you with their presence and right now they are only pleased with 80's New Romantic music and offerings of highly caffeinated beverages._

_Be safe everybody_

_ladyofdark.1981 3_


End file.
